Red couches make the best matchmakers
by Meggels921
Summary: Ponyboy spends time at the library and meets a special someone
1. Cracked Windows

It had been a long boring day. My teachers had given me lectures that I hadn't needed and homework I didn't want to do. But I knew that once I went home I would have to. So after school ended instead of getting a ride from Steve I walked to the library.

Now, I love the library, but since my Mom and Dad died I just haven't had much time. It's such a familiar sight, the worn pavement out front, the brick sides and big window in the front with a small crack in the corner. I could see Mrs. Wilson sitting at her desk in the back of the building. It isn't the biggest building, you can see right back through the shelves but it's cozy with its worn carpets and small sofas in a secluded corner and books lining the walls.

 _Ding._

The bell on the door rings as I enter and Mrs. Wilson looks up. She squints as she looks at me cause her glasses are hung around her neck and not on her nose like they are when she reads.

"Oh, dear, is that you Pony?" She asks.

"Yea Mrs. Wilson, it is." I answer back.

"Well now it's been quite awhile since I've seen you wander on in here." She says getting up and looking at me. When she walks up to me she's just shy of reaching my eye level. We were the same height for a little bit but recently I've been gettin' taller. "My you sure have gotten big now haven't you."

"Yea I guess." I respond rubbing the back of my neck and looking down a little.

"Well it's good to have you back, you know the rules and your way around so I'll talk to you later." She says as she walks back to her desk. As she's ambling back I look around at the shelves I've spent so much time wandering and wish I had come back sooner. I used to come in at least once a week but like I said before my parents deaths really messed up my schedule.

After searching the shelves and finding a book that looks interesting I went to the back corner of the room where Mrs. Wilson kept a worn out red sofa and two spare armchairs. I then noticed that there was a person sitting in the sofa.

The library was pretty empty, I think I saw someone looking at some historical fiction novels before but that was it. Though who spends their Friday nights at the library? Me, and this person apparently. It looks like a girl. She has pretty long brownish hair. I'm not sure if it's considered blonde or brown, it's somewhere in the middle. She has her legs crossed and a book on her lap and I can only see part of her face but from what I can see she looks real pretty. She looks the type that boys would hit on when she enters a room, though judging from her knee length black skirt and burgundy oversized sweater, she doesn't seem the type to be very receptive to that flirting.

I decide that she looks too absorbed in her book to disturb so I take my book and sit on the opposite end of the couch. I briefly feel her eyes on me but when I look over her eyes are glued to her book.

I read and read and read and get lost in my book before I feel a shift in the couch as the girl gets up. When I look out the window about the chairs next to me I see that it's almost dark out. I look back just as the girl is walking out, her head is turned as opens the door and I see that I was right. She is pretty. With elbow length brownish-blondish hair and a nose that has a bit of an arch in the middle and blue eyes that are framed by big lashes, she looks like a real cute broad. When I'm looking at her I feel this thing in my stomach. This pulling. This bubbling. I don't know what it is but it sure is new.

I grab the book, go to Mrs. Wilson and check it out before heading out the door, sprinting home because I hadn't told anyone where I was going so if I'm not home before dark I'll be in for a hollering.

When I walk into the house it's the same as usual, Steve and Soda, my brother and his best friend, talking as loudly as their rambunctious hearts desire while filling their faces with I don't even know what. It was Soda's night to cook and I don't think I could've recognized what was on the plate sitting beside him before he mauled it.

Johnny was sitting on the couch watching them with a timorous smile on his face, nodding along as Dally talked his ear off beside him. Two-bit was also sitting on the couch, beer in hand, as he listened to Dally's story. Darry, who was sitting in the chair in the corner, looked up from the paper he was reading as I walked in.

"Where were you?" He asked, raising an eyebrow in question.

"The library." I answer shortly. I shuffle past everyone else and head straight to my room. I've been doing that a lot lately. Spending more time by myself reading and writing. I don't know why I just like the quiet. Gives me time to think. Because lord knows I can't get any of that done in the roaring classrooms and deafening hallways of school. There isn't much quiet with the gang either. Don't get me wrong I love them, but man can they get loud.

I already know that Darry's gonna be on me about my homework soon cause I got home later than I meant to do I take my backpack and start in on the article my journalism teacher wants us to write.

"Make it about something you see, something newsworthy. A scandal, an event, a sports victory or defeat, anything that qualifies as news. Release your inner journalist." She has said. I don't know about anything newsworthy other than the rumble happening next week. Some socs had been hitting on Two-bit's sister, Kathy, and tried grabbing her a few times so after he pounded their faces in he called a rumble.

Kathy is about my age, a little younger, I turned fourteen last week but she doesn't for another 4 months. When we were younger everyone was always trying to push us together or get us to kiss. She always went along with it but I never wanted to. As we got older they kinda gave up, though Two always does say that he'd be glad to have me as a brother as long as I don't break his baby sisters heart, then he'll pound my face.

As I thought about Kathy my mind drifted back to the girl from earlier, she had had this sort of steady attentiveness towards her book. She had clearly been focused on her book. I wonder if I'll ever see her again?

I don't let my mind stay on her for long though as Soda walks into the room just as I add on the final period of my second paragraph.

The rest of the night is pretty routine, Darry comes in to tell me that we're going out. And so we go out to the dingo hang out and come back at around 10 at which point I promptly fall asleep.


	2. Tuesday

It was another 2 weeks before I was able to find time for the library again, and see the girl. I knew it was a real long shot that she would be there, but I thought, eh why not try? So here I am once again, opening the door and ringing the little bell hanging on it. Mrs. Wilson looked up I look around and peek back into the corner and see an empty couch.

The library is empty, of course it is, it's a Saturday at 9 am. Mrs. Wilson opens the place at 8:30 and keeps it open until 10pm. I once asked her why she opened so early and closed so late…

You never know when someone may finish a book they loved or had a real big cliffhanger that they just need to have satisfied. Every once in a while a person will burst in here just before closing and ask me about the next book in a series. Those are the times I love most.

I had known exactly what she was talking about, I had done that a few times myself. Once we had started a book in class and to keep everyone in the same place they kept the books in the classroom but I went to the library and got myself a copy and finished it before sundown. But that's beside the point, I went to the fiction section and picked out a book I had been eyeing for a while and sat down on the couch. I had been reading for about 30 minutes when Mrs. Wilson walked up and sat down next to me.

"Hi, sweetie," that's another thing about her, she calls just about everyone sweetie, "so, I've been thinking that getting a table or two in the spot in front of my desk would be good and I was wondering if you could maybe help me move them?"

"Uh, sure Mrs. Wilson, I'd love to." I respond politely.

"Oh thank you! Can you do this Tuesday?" She asks.

"Yeah I can, when do you want me to come?"

"Just stop by anytime you can, me and my niece will be here from 2 till 10."

"Niece?"

"Yep, my baby sister has some work to do in China and she don't want to have to drag along her daughter so she's staying with me for the next 8 months."

"That's real tuff of you Mrs. Wilson, taking care of your niece I mean."

She laughs at that, saying something about never understanding our weird patois that we seem to have. She then gets up and meanders over to her desk and I continue reading for another hour before heading home.


	3. Tables

I had almost completely forgotten about the girl when Tuesday came around. I was walking up to the small building when I looked in and saw a head of blondish-brownish hair that had plagued my head for the past three weeks. With my backpack over my shoulder I walked in through the door and heard the usual Ding of the bell as the door swung open. It didn't occur to me to connect the girl that I had seen and Mrs. Wilson's niece, though it does seem like an easy connection to make. So it was quite a surprise when Mrs. Wilson introduced her to me. They were organizing books on a cart when she looked up and saw me in the door and said,

"Ah, Pony, you're here. Good, good, good. Now we can get started on those tables." I smiled weakly in response, feeling an awkward tension surrounding the girl. "Oh this is my niece that I was telling you about. I promise she ain't always this quiet, just around strangers-"

"Maggie!" She interjected, red faced and looking down. That's the first time I've heard her talk and I was taken aback. It was weird, her accent. It definitely wasn't southern. I'm not quite sure how to describe it, the closest that I've ever heard to it is Dallas' accent. But hers is warmer, less harsh.

"-Alright, alright, I'll stop embarrassing you. Pony, this is my favorite, and only, niece Maria." She said

"Hi" I give a small wave in greeting and step further into the library.

The tables are in the back room, apparently she's had them for a few years but forgot about them after she couldn't move them herself. We get them moved pretty quick and when we're almost done Mrs. Wilson asks if I wouldn't mind staying and helping them sort books.

"I let myself get lazy last week and now I'm real behind where I should be on putting these back," She says gesturing to the pile of books in the drop off bin. So being the good book lover I am I say sure and get started on sorting them. We continue like that for a little while, all three of us standing and listening to the small radio that Mrs. Wilson has behind her desk when she broke the silence.

"Pony, you're in high school right?"

"Yeah, I'm a freshman." I reply taking a pile of books and bringing them to their shelf.

"But you would've been in eighth?" She asked reading through some papers.

"Yep," I say, "I was moved up a grade 'cus I have a high IQ or something."

"Well Maria just started in 8th grade yesterday, isn't that right sweetie?"

"Yup," Maria replied quietly, never looking up from the pages she was flipping through.

"Sweetie, why don't you tell Pony about your favorite subjects," Mrs. Wilson enjoins.

"I really like English, I guess, and History is cool, too." Maria answers in a quiet voice, looking up at me through her eyelashes. As she looks at me I stop what I'm doing and feel her eyes looking at me. As I meet her eyes I feel that same stirring inside me that I did when I first saw her. And for a solid minute we stay like that, eyes locked, frozen in place.

"Really," I finally manage, "I love English."

"What part?" She asks, looking back down at the book now seemed to find very interesting.

"Well I love writing, but reading is really cool too." I answer.

"O...k," She answers, obviously still confused but ready to move on, "so what's your favorite book?"

We continue on like that, talking and sorting books for a long while. I found out that her favorite color is periwinkle, she used to live in New Jersey, right by NY, which explains the accent, and she's an only child. I also told her about my favorite books and subjects in school and about lots of other generic stuff. But I also told her about my brothers and my parents. It felt good, talking about them, and not in a sad way. I told her about the way that we used to go hunting and how Mom always wanted to teach me the piano but could never scrape up enough to actually get one. It's so easy to talk to her. She's kinda like Johnny in the sense that she's a great listener. But she gets it more than he does. It may be because she's only a few months younger than me, while Johnny is 2 years older.

The more we talked the more open and louder she got. When we first started talking she was practically caving in on herself but she slowly came out of her shell. I was so busy talking to Maria that I almost didn't notice Mrs. Wilson smiling fondly at us as Maria told me about the time she went to a haunted house with a friend and got a bloody nose when I looked outside and saw that it was almost dark.

"Hey what time is it Mrs. Wilson?" I ask looking towards her.

"It's quarter to 6, oh no, have I kept you too long?" She asks, clearly troubled and guilty that she may have had me here longer than she should have.

"Oh no it's fine I just have to head home soon." I say in an attempt at trying to quell her concerns. I walk over and grab my backpack off the back of a chair and start saying goodbye.

"I'll see ya soon Mrs. Wilson. And it was real nice meeting you Maria." I say with a wave turning my back and heading towards the door.

"Wait." I hear behind me. I turn and see Mrs. Wilson looking at me, glasses hanging around her neck, sweater on her shoulders, and she asks me, "I know i've been askin' quite a few favors of you lately but, well, my dear Maria is quite new to town and it would mean a whole lot to me if you could show her around."

"Maggie," Maria says "I couldn't dream of making him drag me around, I bet he's got lots of better things to be doing than showin' me 'round."

"Naw, don't worry about it, I don't mind givin' ya a tour." I say.

I don't really know much about Maria yet but I do know that she sure does blush a lot when she writes her number down on a little piece of paper and I'm positive that I'm just as red as I take it and put it in the back pocket of my jeans. We say goodbye for a final time and since Maria and I are right next to each other she leans up and gives me a little half hug.

She looks down, blushin scarlett and I can feel my cheeks lighting up and I have to fight to keep my voice steady when I say that I'll call her later to figure out what day I can show her around on. And I'm not quite sure what the look on Mrs. Wilson's face is while she waves as I head out the door, maybe reminiscence? I'm not sure, the only thing I am sure about is that I'm real excited about calling Maria tonight to find out when I get to see her next, or is it too soon to call her tonight? Should I wait till tomorrow? I'll wait a few hours and see if it still feels too soon in a couple of hours.


	4. Planning

I ended up calling Maria at nine that night. The rest of the gang had gone to a party at a friends place while Darry took another night shift. So after staring at the phone for about an hour before finally taking the little piece of paper out of my pocket and dialing the number.

And so I sat there and coiled the wire around my finger, feeling it wrap around and listening to the methodical ringing of the phone waiting for her to pick up.

"Hello?" I hear from the phone. I let out a shaky breath and calm my nerves before speaking.

"Hey, it's me," I say and immediately after saying it I mentally slap myself because how does that help her at all.

"Henry?" She asks.

"Yep, so um.." I stammer out trying my hardest to keep my cool, act tuff.

"So.. I was talking to Maggie and she said that I could do Friday," She says and I was confused for a moment but then realize that Maggie is Mrs. Wilson's first name and because she's her aunt I guess that's what she calls her.

"Uh, yeah Friday should work, though it would have to be later because I have track right after school." I say, feeling less nervous remembering the conversation that we had earlier and how easy it was to talk to her. But when I think of our conversation my mind drifts back to the way she had looked at me earlier, face red, her blue eyes meeting mine from under her lashes. I remember that strange feeling that I've been feeling a lot more often that makes me feel all nervous but it's not a bad feeling. No, it's an amazing feeling, a weird one, but a good one. I was so lost in thought that I nearly missed what she said next.

"You run?" She asked sounding a little surprised.

"Yeah, why do you sound so surprised?" I ask wanting an explanation for her skeptical tone.

"I don't know I guess we were just talking about books and school and so I took you more as the nerdy type than a jock," She elucidates, and I guess it makes sense.

"Well why can't I be both?" I ask.

"I'm not saying you can't I'm just saying that you surprised me." She defends laughing a little.

And then it's just like earlier at the library, us laughing and talking about whatever we wanted to. Skipping from topic to topic, I wish that we didn't have to stop but I had made the call for a reason and I actually did want to plan this Friday. Because while I liked talking on the phone I enjoy talking in person far more.

"So," I say, trying to catch my breath and stop laughing at a stupid joke she had made,"Really, how does Friday at like 7 work?"

"That works perfectly," She says, "I'll meet you at the library. Though I actually should be going now, Maggie asked me to take out the trash like 20 minutes ago. So I'll see you Friday?"

"See you Friday," I answer, hanging up the phone and going to my room to finish the homework that I had been assigned. Though my mind didn't want to concentrate on algebra, I kept on thinking up different ways that friday could go. I thought of the best and the worst. The ways she could see the town and think of me as nothing more than trash beneath her feet, and the ways she could smile at me, the corners of her mouth turning up just a touch, cheeks red like they had been at the library, her eyes meeting mine and then I'd notice just how close we were. Her hands would wrap themselves around my neck and mine would find their way to her waist and then we'd lean in and-

Stop. I tell myself, You hardly know her you shouldn't be thinking about her like that, plus she probably has a boyfriend back home, after all nobody that pretty doesn't have someone special.

After that I'm able to somewhat concentrate on math and I manage to finish the work just as the gang barges back into the house. We eat dinner and Tristain tells us about some blonde he was eyeing at the party and we fall back onto our usual routine.


	5. Shirts

It was a long three days that I had to wait before Friday. They seemed to drag on and on and on. When Friday afternoon rolls around I'm in my room debating whether or not I should change into a new shirt. I can hear the gang being their usual catastrophic selves. A loud crash sounds outside the door and I can hear Darry yelling at Two-bit about not throwing things. I chuckle slightly and go back to debating if I should change my shirt. I keep my eye on the clock and see that I have another 20 minutes before I should leave when I finally decide not to change. I don't want to seem like I'm trying too hard.

I walk out into the living room, closing my door and walking to the door to grab my shoes.

"Hey Pony," I hear behind me, I turn and see Two-bit leaning over the back of the couch, "Going somewhere?"

"Uh, yeah, just going for a walk," I say, and I start thinking about whether or not I should tell them. If I do they're sure to make a big deal out of it, and I'm already stressed about it as it is, i don't need them on my backs. Plus, it's just two friends hanging out while one friend shows the other around, nothing special.

If it's nothing special then why are you so nervous about it? I ask myself, you're never this nervous hanging out with the gang.

And I don't know why I'm so nervous, I put on my shoes and sit on the couch next to Johnny watching Darry and Steve roll around on the floor, cards that they had been playing with forgotten underneath them. And I sit there for the next ten minutes, talking to Johnny in hushed tones about this great gal that I met at the library.

"Is she pretty?" He asks, voice barely above a whisper, his hair partly falling into his eye as he stares at his hands which he's wringing in his lap.

"Oh yeah, she's real pretty," I reply looking down into my hands on my lap, "she's got brown hair and the nicest blue eyes, she's a little shorter than I am and, god.. Johnny-cake it's like I can talk to her about anything."

He got this sort of small smile on his face, the type he gets when he understands something.

"So that's why you've gone to the library five times in the past six weeks. You have a crush on her." He says, bumping our shoulders together a little.

"What?" I say louder than I intended to, I quiet my voice and add "N-no, that's ridiculous- I mean w-why would I have a- no, no way." I was getting flustered and stuttering over my words and I couldn't for the life of me understand why his smile just got bigger.

"Whatever you say Pony, whatever you say…"

I look over to the clock hanging above the doorway to the kitchen and see it's getting close to 7. Then I start thinking about whether or not I should just go, or would that be too early. If I get there too early will I seem too eager? And why do I care so much? Who gives a damn if I'm here five minutes early? But what if she gets there early? What if I walk too slow and she has to wait for me? I don't want her to think that I don't care about this if I show up late. I'm already wearing the same thing I did to school if I show up late then I might seem lazy. But she doesn't go to high school so she doesn't know what I wore today. I just-

Stop. I tell myself, just calm down.

As I watch the clock's hand get ever closer to seven I stand up say a quiet goodbye to Johnny as I slip out the front door. The pavement crunches beneath my feet as I try desperately to not let my thoughts get out of control. I start counting cars as they go by and after about five minutes, when I'm halfway there, I get the feeling that I'm being followed. I look over my shoulder a bit and see a red mustang slowing down behind me. I hadn't thought to bring a switch with me so I waited till they started to get out of the car and started to run like hell.

I'm panting and my forehead is a little wet as I turn the corner to the library. I didn't need to run for as long as I had but they were could have easily gotten back in the car so I thought that it was better to be safe than sorry.

As I walk in I hear the same Ding of the bell on the door and see Mrs. Wilson sitting behind her desk. She looks up and smiles as she sees me, she waves a simple hello and nods her head towards the back corner, where the couches are.

I head over to the couches and see Maria sitting, book in her lap. Her hair is in a weird braid on top of her head, it looks like it's attached not just sitting there, and all her hair is in it except for two strands which are falling into her face as she looks down at her book.

I sit down next to her and wait for her to notice that I'm there. I'm sitting close enough that I can feel the heat coming off her arm but not close enough to actually be touching.

After a minute goes by without her looking up I give a small cough and she looks up startled.

"Oh, Pony, I didn't see you," she says taking a decorated piece of paper and slipping it between the pages of the book, saving her spot, "Hi."

"Hi," I say awkwardly. I'm not sure why but talking with her makes me feel weird about my accent. I've only ever lived in Tulsa and while I am aware that I have a southern accent, I never really noticed it 'till I heard her. She sounds so much crisper, while I sound like an idiot redneck who don't know nothin'. Is this how Darry feels when I talk to him about the books I've read? He always says that hearing how deep and philosophical I get in my analysis of some of the books boggles his mind, though he didn't put it so eloquently.

"So, ready to show me the place I'm staying in for the next 7ish months?" She asks smiling, and it takes me a second to answer as her eyes meet mine.

"U-uh, yeah, yep, I'm..ready." I stumble on my words shifting my gaze to the people sitting down at the tables that we had set up in the middle of the room.

"Ok, uh, so let's go?" She asks taking one of the pieces of hair that frame her face and twirling it around her finger. She stands up and turns offering her hand to me to help me up.

I'm then able to fully see what she's wearing, and it's pretty. She has on a simple pink shirt that compliments her eyes nicely and shows off just enough skin that I hope she doesn't see me staring. I never really notice girls-chests-but I can't help but think that she fills out her shirt in a way that I've never really taken time to notice. In order to avoid embarrassment I move my eyes to her knee length gray skirt and let my eyes wander to the black flats she has on.

We wave to Mrs.Wilson as we head outside, and I real nice inside when I open the door for her and she looks at the ground shifting her weight from foot to foot.

"So, where to first?" She asks, stepping out in front of me onto the sidewalk and waiting for me to follow.

"That's up to you. I was thinking that I could show you the Dingo first, then we could head up to the movie theater because it's real close to the main road where there are lots of shops and stuff. And we can go into whatever you wanna. Then we could head over to the gas station and back here." I turn to her, searching her face as she thinks over my plans.

"Sounds good, let's go." And she grabs the sleeve of my jacket and tells me to lead the way. And so, with my head shaking slightly with laughter, I start off in the direction of the Dingo.


	6. Movie house

As we walk the cracked streets that I've know all my life Maria takes her hand that was holding my jacket and holds her hand just above my elbow. She uses her hand and pulls it close. I'm not sure exactly when she made the shift but… I like it. I like the warmth I feel through the fabric and I like how it brings her closer, so we start talking in a quieter, closer tone. It's kinda like how I talk to Johnny, or Soda at night in bed. But this is different, there's almost this tension that appears whenever we get particularly close. But we keep walking, me pointing out the buildings as we pass.

When we see the Dingo come into view I start telling her about the types of people in Tulsa. I explain the greasers, the socs, and the people in the middle class.

"Ok, so I think I get it," She eyed the cars in the parking lot, "there are the socs and the greasers and the socs are all rich and and kinda mean, and the greasers are the poor people who are generally hoods and put lots of grease in their hair?"

"Basically, it's a little more complicated than that, but that's the general idea."

"So, judging from your hair, you're a greaser?"

"Yeah, I live over on the east side of town, the socs live on the west."

"What am I?" She turns her head to me and we slow our pace as we reach the edge of the Dingo parking lot.

"Probably middle class," I say almost offhandedly as I look at the cars judging whether or not we should go into the Dingo . I decide that we shouldn't cause all I see are corvettes and mustangs. "Where do you want to go now?"

"How about you just show me the spot with the most stuff," She suggests sliding her hand down from my elbow to my wrist.

So I lead us to a street lined with stores. As it gets darker the neon signs that adorn the shops windows get brighter and more and more street lights get turned on. Cars and motorcycles are driving past us. And yet all I can focus on is the feeling I get whenever Maria's fingers brush the skin of my wrist as she toys with the cuff of my jacket.

We pass by a record shop, a convenience store, an ice cream parlor, and so many more. I feel at home looking at the bright lights of my hometown. The shops familiar and the layout of the town mapped out inside my head. Though the many streets and shops are what I've come to know, Maria must be overwhelmed. I try pointing out shops but I can tell that she won't remember half of them anyways so I keep my descriptions vague.

It's another ten minutes before I see the large overhanging sign for the movie theater coming into view.

"Ooooo. Fahrenheit 451 is playing. I've wanted to see that for a while." She remarks, her face lighting up, both from the glow the theater lights give off and from the sheer joy in her eyes.

"Wanna see it?" I ask, "they have it playing in 20 minutes." I point to the sign that was up that indicated the showtimes for that day.

"I wish, but I don't have any money, and I'd feel atrocious if I made you pay." She took the hand that wasn't fiddling with my jacket and held it up in front of her chest. I stared at her for a second, I knew the word, I'd read it a million times, 'atrocious', but I'd never heard it out loud so it took me a second to process.

"Oh it's no big deal." I wave my hand. "It's only a quarter a piece."

"If it's not a burden to you…" She looked down and away from me, one of the pieces of her hair falling into her face. I'm not sure what possessed me to but I reached out and lightly brushed the hair behind her ear. Her eyes snapped up to meet mine. She looked at me through her black coated lashes.

"It's not a burden," I say, and I almost don't recognize my own voice, it was deeper than it's ever gone before.

Oh god, I think, I remember when this happened to Soda, he couldn't even at a full sentence without his voice going up and down ten octaves.

I used to listen to Soda talk late into the night about Sandy and be confused as to what was so special. She wore a top that matched her eyes, so what? She wore a shirt that went real low, who cares? But now I think I get it. It matters because it's them. But I can't really say much about her other than she's a real looker, after all we've only had a few real conversations.

I lead her over to a record store a few buildings down to waste some time before the movie. We move through the rows of records and we show each other our favorites. I show her the exclusive signed Elvis album that they have on display behind the counter. Everyone on our side of town wants it. But it cost more than most people's rent. She shows me her favorite Beatles album.

"The Beatles?" I question, looking at her skeptically.

"Well yeah, they're my favorite band," She says running her fingers over the record sleeve.

"Elvis is better," I mumble.

"But I don't really like many bands," She continues, not appearing to have heard me and if she did then she didn't care, "but one album that I really do love is 'Hello, Dolly!', I live really quite close to New York City, only 30 minutes away, so my mom would always take me to see broadway shows."

"Really? That's tuff I guess," I say looking back at her.

I check the clock and realize that the movie should be starting in about five minutes. So I take her hand and lead her out onto the busy street and back into the movie house. I pay for our tickets and we stop to get popcorn and two cokes before settling down in our seats.

We sit in the middle of the theater and when we sit down Maria scoots as close to the armrest as possible. She loops her arm through mine and rests her head on my shoulder. For what seems like the millionth time this month I feel that weird fluttering in my stomach and I have to resist the urge to look her straight in her beautiful blue eyes, put my hand on her soft cheek and-

Dammit, i mentally scold myself, you can't do that, you're friends. You're here as friends, that's it. Because even if you may like her in that way there is no way that a girl as gorgeous and amazing as her don't have a boyfriend.

And so we sat and watched the movie. It was good. Not anywhere near as Amazing as the book but still good. Though I didn't pay much attention to the movie. Usually Soda is the one eyeing a gal the entire time. I'm not sure what it was but the way her head was resting in my shoulder, the light from the screen illuminating her face, I grabbed the hand that was resting on her leg and she intertwined our fingers.

OK SO I'M TRYING SOMETHING OUT CAN U TELL ME IF IT SUCKS?

3rd person

Dally and Johnny had decided to go to the movies. Dally had borrowed Buck's truck and drove them down to the theater, parking in an open spot. Unfortunately it was a Friday night and so it was hard to find parking. The first open spot they saw was about four blocks from the movie house. They then pushed their way through the crowded street and into the small lobby of the theater.

They weren't sure what they wanted to see at first but then Johnny spotted a title that caught his eye.

"'Fahrenheit 451'? Huh? Can we see that one Dal? I've heard Pony go on and on 'bout the book." He looks at Dally with an earnest gaze and waits for his approval.

"Sure Johnny-cake, we'll see that one." And though his words are sincere his tone is the same gruff, uncaring tone that he uses in all but few situations.

Dally buys two tickets, much to his dismay; he had wanted to just sneak in but Johnny wasn't having it.

Since the movie had just started they snuck in and sat towards the back. The theater was pretty empty, there were only a few people seeing the film they had chosen. Dally was eyeing a couple of broads that were sitting in the next when his gaze drifted to the people a few rows in front of him.

"Hey Johnny." He taps his friends arm, pointing to the people in front of them. "Is that Pony?"

Johnny squinted and leaned forward trying to identify the person from the back of their head. He was about to say that he didn't know when the person turned their head.

"It is!" He exclaimed in a whisper. Though his whisper was barely lower than his normal tone.

They looked at him and realized, quite shocked, that he wasn't alone. But rather that he had a slim, fairly feminine head resting on his shoulder. This was confusing because he had never mentioned a girl to Dally, though Johnny had more than an inkling that the head that rested upon his shoulder belonged to the girl he had told him about.

"Is that a gal with him?" Dally asked, leaning forward to get a better look, "because the sure look cozy."

Johnny's face turned a shade of pink at his friends implications. He was immensely grateful that it was dark in the theater, otherwise he may not have been able to avoid the inevitable teasing that would come from his now rosy color.

"What do ya say we march right up there and check 'em out, see if she's a looker or not?" Dally proposed, already taking his feet off the chair they had been on top of and getting ready to walk down and embarrass him.

"Wait," Johnny managed to squeak. And though it wasn't loud it was enough to get Dally's head to turn.

"What is it kid?" He asks irritated.

"Maybe we shouldn't, mess with him I mean. I guess- I just- I mean you wouldn't want nobody messin' with you when you were out with a gal. So, maybe, we should just let em be?" He manages, though he stumbles through his statement.

Dally looks annoyed and though he would never admit it he did agree that he wouldn't want nobody messing with him on a date, though he doubts anyone would have the guts to. And he does think it's time for the kid to grow a pear and finally get some. Stop being a wuss and man up. So, though reluctant, he sits back down in his chair and tries actually watching the movie.

Later as they leave the theater they see Pony leave hand in hand with a girl who had quite a few prepossessing features. Johnny thought that Pint hadn't done her justice. When he was telling him about her he had thought he was exaggerating but now he saw that he really was trying to describe her in the most accurate way possible.

They made their way to the truck, though now the only thing lighting the still bust streets was the orange washed lamps hanging over the road. They drove back in silence, the radio blaring, and Johnny couldn't stop thinking that the look on Pony's face as they walked out of the theater was the happiest he's seen him since his parents died. He didn't know much about her but he hoped that she could help him, help him more than the gang could; help him in a different way. He hoped that she could help him close wounds still so big and fresh.


	7. Walks home

Maria and I walk hand in hand on the busy street. Illuminated by the yellowing street lights. Their artificial brightness that usually washed people out was bouncing off of her face and leaving a sort of glow around her. We traipsed down the street in the opposite direction from where we came. I led her in a loop around the street, letting her see more of the town that wasn't exactly on the main road. Eventually, though, we made it back to the library.

"That was fun," Maria said as we came to a halt right in front of the big window with a small crack in the corner, that showed the rows of books that resides inside the building.

There was another librarian manning the desk, she was usually there on weekends and whenever else Mrs. Wilson wanted time off. She's nice, too, though Mrs. Wilson was always my favorite. They split their time up but since Mrs.Wilson has more shifts I got to know her better. I think her name was Ms. Clarke. She's a helluva lot younger than Mrs. Wilson, and she isn't quite as good at recommending books to me. She just never understood me the way Mrs. Wilson has.

"Yeah," I answer, my eyes drifting back to Maria, "it was, I hope ya like it."

She laughed a little and looked down at her feet. She was shifting her weight from one foot to another and her hair had fallen into her face again. I'm not sure why but I took a step forward, making the space between us small and insignificant. I put one hand on her chin, lifting her eyes to meet mine while my other hand swept a piece of hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear.

The air around us changed; suddenly our eyes were meeting with a new intensity. I kept one hand on her chin while the other ran down her cheek and neck. It ran across her shoulder and down her arm until my fingers were intwined with hers. And as I watched my hand trail down her skin I watched goosebumps form in their wake.

I heard a short, sharp intake of breath and our eyes met again. I then realized how close our faces had gotten, we were merely inches apart and even that seemed too far. She licked her lips and I took my thumb that was resting on her chin and I ran it across her bottom lip. As close as we already were I tipped my head down, I could feel her breath on my lips and I wanted to kiss her like nothing I'd ever wanted before. Our lips brushed as we got ever closer and-

Ding

The door to the library opened and a man came out, book in hand. He gave us a weird look as he passed and while our hands were still connected our lips were farther apart. He seemed to have broken whatever bubble we had been in.

I looked up and remembered where we were.

This is the library, not exactly the best place to woo a girl, or have your first kiss.

"Hey," Maria's voice sounded silvery and soft as she spoke, " So, I know that you've been out a while, and I understand if you don't want to, but

Kk could you maybe walk me home?"

I smirked slightly, though I'm sure my face was red. "Of course, I wouldn't dream of lettin' ya walk all by your lonesome."

She looked away suddenly but I'm pretty sure I saw her cheeks getting a distinct red dusting. And so I walked her back and while I'm sure my hands were sweating we never let go.

It was well into the night when we walked up to the small two story house that belonged to Mrs. Wilson. It was small and white with wilting flowers out front. There was a small porch with a rocking chair and a potted plant sitting next to it. There were lights on upstairs and through the messily painted windows Mrs. Wilson was visible in the kitchen stirring something or other. And Maria led me up the two steps into the welcome mat in front of the door and turned to me.

"Tonight was…...fun," she said, looking down at our hands which had still yet to separate.

"Yeah, it was." My reply is swift, I don't trust my voice not to crack right now.

She separates our hands but my disappointment is short lived when I feel her arms wrap around my neck. Her body presses against mine and her face is pressed against my neck.

I like this, I think as a slight strawberry scent fills my senses.

She pulls back and I know that I wished we could stay like that forever but as she's pulling back I feel her press her warm lips to my cheek. I must look real stupid because she giggles and separates from me completely.

"Wait here," she orders as she opens the door and runs inside. It's not that cold and I don't mind waiting but hell if I knew what to do. I just stood there looking like an idiot because a girl kissed me on the cheek.

Come on, I mentally scold myself, be tuff, Soda never gets this flustered cause of a peck on the cheek.

I shake my head and try to clear my thoughts. Maria comes out a moment later with a pen and a small slip of paper. She pressed the paper up against the siding of the house and scribbles something I can't quite see.

"Here." She ticks the piece of paper in my hand, and now I can see that it's her phone number, "Don't leave me waiting too long."

And with that she heads inside, closing the door behind her. I realize how late it's getting and start jogging halfway through my way home.

Our house was alight with laughter and the rambunctious sounds that usually filled it's walls. I slipped inside and fell into the routine. Two but sitting there by Johnny telling him some bs story while Soda and Steve played poker. Dally was sitting turning his blade in his hand half listening to Two and Darry was in his chair. Everything was normal. And as I say next to Johnny and started looking at my brothers and friends, my family, I felt all my nerves from the past few hours wash away.

Later that night

I'm in bed later, Soda's arm thrown across my stomach, his snores full the room but I can't sleep. I know what crushes look like, I know what it is to fall in love- I think. But knowing what something is, reading about it, seeing it in a movie, is real different from actually having it happen.

I'm sure that if I was looking at someone else I'd be able to tell in an instant, but actually going through it myself I'm not entirely sure. I know that I have feelings for Maria but I don't know what label they should be given. I decide that Soda knows enough to help me with this.

"Pst… Soda," I shake him, "Sodaaaa."

"Huh?" He lifts his head groggily, he squints his eyes as he looks at me, "You ok Pony? Not another nightmare?"

"No, uh not a nightmare, I just had a question," I then thought about how much teasing I'd get cause of this, thinking that it wasn't such a good idea I quickly backtrack, "actually never mind, I'll let you sleep."

"No, c'mon Pony, just tell me," He encourages, turning to face me while sitting up slightly, leaning his head on his hand.

"No, it's nothing." But I was too tired to lie with any believability so he caught on quick.

"Ponneeee," He whined, "just tell me, ya know you can trust me with anything."

I thought it over for a second before deciding that there was no harm in telling him, any teasing was inevitable so there's no point in trying to avoid it.

"Ok so how do you know when you like a girl?" I ask, suddenly finding the seam on my pillowcase very interesting.

"Wait what? You like a girl?! Pony that's amazing!"

"Ugghhhh, Soda calm down. I'm not sure if I like her, that's what I need your help figuring out." My voice is muffled as I stuff my face into a pillow, red from embarrassment.

"Ok, ok, tell me about her," He resigns flopping down next to me.

"Alright so her name is Maria," I say lifting my head a little.

"Maria what?"

Up until now I hadn't given her last name any thought. I guess I'd just assumed that it would be Wilson, but now that just seems silly.

"Uh, she's Mrs. Wilson's niece," I settle for, though I'll definitely ask her next time I see her. He continues to ask me questions, when did we meet? How old is she? What's she look like?

"Oh she's real pretty. She's got this light brownish hair and grey eyes and pshe I she's a little shorter than I am. And she don't wear that much makeup because she doesn't need it."

Soda got this smile on his face then, the same smile that Mrs. Wilson has worn.

"What?" I ask, my brows knitted together.

"Oh nothing." He flops back down in the bed and closes his eyes, "Goodnight Pony."

"Goodnight," I murmur as I close my eyes and drift off.


	8. Walking and talking

I looked down at the "schedule" in my hands. Tuesday's, Wednesday's, Friday's, and Saturday's, those are the days she's free. I had called her to ask precisely what it meant and she said that I could stop by and hang out on any of those days. Apparently, her parents were uptight about her grades and they had her meeting with a tutor most days after school, even though she seems real smart to me. And so the very next day I slip on my beat up converse and tell Darry I'm going on a walk.

"Ok, just be careful," He said, waving his hand in my general direction, never looking up from his paper.

And with that, I set out, down my front steps and back the way of gone last night. Her house looked different in the daylight. The cover of the night made it hard to see the chipping of the paint and the slight sag of the roof, in the light of day the small house looked like it belonged in this neighborhood. As I walked up to the door I hesitated, my hand floating mid-air as I was about to knock.

What if it's too soon? Will I seem too eager? Thoughts fill my head and I almost turn around, but as I watch my hand knock on the light wood of her door I know it's too late. I take a step back and I only wait a moment before Maria's head is poking out of the door.

"Hello- oh, hi Pony," she starts, switching up her greeting as recognition of who her visitor was.

"Hey, sorry to bother you, I just was walking and remembered that you said that Saturday was a day you could hang out and…" I trailed off looking at my feet suddenly feeling silly about suggesting it, she probably has much better things to do than walk around with me.

"You want to hang out, with me?" She looked a little surprised, and if the small smile forming on her face was anything to go by then quite happy too.

"Uh, yeah if you're not busy then I was hoping that you'd walk around with me," I say, motioning towards the street behind me.

"Ok, let me just get my shoes and then we can go," she says opening the door completely and walking further inside, "Come in while I get my stuff."

I walk inside and stand at the bottom of the steps that Maria runs up, taking two at a time. I stand there awkwardly listening to Maria fumbling upstairs, looking at the small table with a bowl with some keys and bills a mirror hanging above it. I look through the archway across from me and see the very end of a blue, beat up couch, and a scratched end table. There's a chess set laid out on the coffee table. I can't do much more inspecting because Maria comes down the stairs with a light purple sweater thrown over her white shirt and a small purse slung across her. She comes to the bottom of the stairs and passes me to grab shoes that I hadn't seen sitting on the ground by the couch. She bends over to slip them on and I have to force myself to look at her face though I'd be lying if I said my eyes didn't wander for a second or two. I felt her eyes on me as her head turned and she straightened herself, I tried to avert my gaze quickly but I'm 87.54% sure that she saw me staring as her cheeks turned slightly pink.

"Ready to go?" she asked, walking towards me until we were almost as close as we were last night.

"Yes," I breathe out, reaching my hand out and lightly grabbing her fingers before she entwined them tightly with mine. She walked out in front of me and led me out the door.

We walked and talked for what felt like mere minutes but I know it was much longer than that, we talked about just about every damn topic under the sun. She's just so easy to talk to, she understands, even better than Johnny or Soda. I told her things that I never thought id ever tell anyone, like about the times Dad took me and my brothers out to the country, and when Mom first taught Darry how to make a cake and he spilled a whole bag of flour. I even told her about the time that I found my dads copy of The Carpetbaggers and read it, that was the last time I ever talked to my dad. He said that I'd be grounded and after giving me a lecture that seemed to last for hours he said that he was going to go out to dinner with Mom for her birthday and that he'd give me 'the talk' when he got back… he never did get to explain it to me, at the time I'd been dreading them coming back, hoping to push it off as late as possible. But when the police came knocking on our door I wanted nothing more than to be lectured one more time.

"Wow…" She breathed out after I told her that particular anecdote, "that's…" but instead of finishing her sentence she stopped dead in her tracks and threw her arms around me, burying her face in my neck. I wasn't sure what to do for a second and my hands hung there awkwardly for a moment before I wrapped them around her waist and held her close to me, pressing my nose to the top of her head.

She pulls back suddenly and I look down at her in confusion for only a moment before she grabs my face gently between her shaking hands and presses our foreheads together. Her eyes are almost closed and I can barely see a sliver of their pure blue color peeking out from beneath her lids. I gently tilt my face closer to hers and a light breeze sweeps by, blowing her loose hair around us like a curtain guarding us against the view of the world. She tipped her head upwards slightly and pressed our lips together. It was simple, innocent, and that's all it needed to be. We weren't devouring each other or grabbing desperately at whatever we could get our hands on like folks in the movies always seem to be doing. We just stood there on the worn concrete of one of Tulsa's backroads, her arms around my neck, mine around her waist, our lips pressed together in a simple embrace. After a few seconds that seemed to both last an eternity and be as fleeting as the last rays of a golden sunset as it takes its final dip below the horizon we seperated.

"Wow.." I hear myself saying though I don't register doing so as my sole focus was on burning the image of Maria standing there so close in front of me, her hair slightly messy from the wind, her eyes glistening as she looked up at me through her black lashes in my mind.

I take my hands and pull them from the small of her back to rest on her hips, then i lead them up and drag them up her sides. Her face turns a new shade of red as my hands brush past her chest and curl their way around her shoulders, trailing up her arms and taking hold of her hands. I pulled them down so our hands were between us and our hands stayed connected for the entire walk home.


	9. Rust bucket

It only takes about twenty minutes to wind our way through the cracked streets that leads to Maria's house. We spend the walk in relative silence though it isn't awkward. I like walking when it's quiet, the silence lets me think.

As we reached her front door we stopped just in front of it like we had last night, and like last night she turned to me. Though this time she took her free hand and grabbed my neck. She then closed her eyes tilted her head up and pulled me down to meet her. I was stunned because holy shit… I thought I was lucky when I got to kiss her once and now I get this too. I closed my eyes and leaned into it. It's pretty obvious that neither of us had any clue what we were doing, it was messy and wet yet I found myself not wanting to stop.

I used to think couples who did nothing but swap spit were kinda disgusting but now I can see the appeal. That's not to say that I don't want to spend time talking to her because I do, she's amazing to talk to, but that doesn't mean I can't revel in the feeling of her lips on mine. Our hands that were still connected separated and while her hand made its way to my shoulder mine could be found buried in her hair.

I knew that we weren't going to be doing much more than kissing for a good while, Maria's just too good for that, plus I think that I'd want to take my time with my firsts and all, but that didn't stop a heat from pooling within me. It was low at first, almost imperceptible, but when we pressed ever so slightly closer to each other and moved backward so that Maria's back was against the outer wall next to the door, that heat grew. We kissed and kissed until my lips felt red and swollen, and when we finally pulled apart it took me a moment to open my eyes and get my bearings.

"Wanna come inside?" Maria asked, her eyes not yet entirely open.

"Sure," I mumble, very conscious of how soft her chest felt through the thin t-shirt that I chose this morning.

"Ok." She pushed me back slightly and grabbed my hand again, she opened the door and went inside and I trailed behind her.

I followed her as she led me up the steep, narrow stairs that brought us to a small hallway with doors on either side. She opened the door to the left and took me inside what I assume to be her room. It's about the same size as my and Soda's room but it feels bigger because instead of a double bed in the middle there's a single pressed up against the wall. It's painted a light blue color, with a worn cream colored carpet that looks like it was once soft but after years of use is now rough with splintering fibers. There are some shirts and shoes thrown on the floor, though the thing that takes up the most space in the room was the bookcase. It's tall, with light wood and filled to the brim with books, thick and thin, short and tall, some of them looked real small, like the books you learn to read with, while some looked thicker than dictionaries.

"Sit down," Maria says as she perches on the edge of her bed, patting the spot next to her.

I walk over and sit down, close enough that are legs touch slightly. We sit there awkwardly for a second and I open my mouth, trying to think up something to say to break the silence bur close it when I can't think of anything that doesn't make me look stupid. I don't sit there struggling for something to say for long though, Maria turns to me, leans in and presses her lips to mine once more. It's simple and only lasts a moment but I still feel breathless after it's over.

Maria then lays back, her legs still over the side of the bed, and tugs my arm sightly until I lay back with her. We stay like that, lost in our own little world, silent except for the small sounds of our occasional kisses, in this moment I feel limitless. But we're broken out of our bubble when Mrs. Wilson knocks on the open door.

"Mari- oh, Ponyboy," She says, looking quite shocked to see me laying with her niece on her bed, ok wow that sounds way worse than it is, "So, dear, uh Maria, sweetie, would you like to invite Pony to stay for dinner? I'm making pasta and meatballs!"

"Dinner? How late is it?" I ask, sitting up, suddenly very aware of the soon to be setting sun and the fact that I'd only told Darry I was going for a walk.

"About 6, why are you expected home soon?" Mrs. Wilson asks.

"Uh yeah, I'm kinda really late," I say jumping up.

"Oh well in that case let me drive you." Mrs. Wilson jumped into action, scurrying down the stairs and slipping on some shoes, grabbing a pair of keys from the bowl that must belong to the little red rustbucket stationed in the cracked driveway outside.

"You really don't need to-" I start to insist, but Maria shushed me, pressing a finger to my lips.

"It's better to just go along with her when she decides on something, she's more stubborn as a fat old mule, but don't tell her I Said that." She makes me swear that I won't tell her and laughs lightly when I put out my pinky and swear on it.

"Pony, dear, are you ready?" Mrs. Wilson calls up the stairs.

"Yea, I'm coming." I give Maria a peck on the cheek and scurried down the steps, out the door and into the passenger seat of Mrs. Wilson's car.

We sat in silence for a few minutes and, I'm quiet, she's quiet, it's awkward. Usually it's nice to talk to Mrs. Wilson, we bond over the books that we've read and our opinions on them, but as we wind our way through the streets she's silent. And I'm not sure I like it any better when she does.

"So, Pony dear, you know I'm very fond of you," She says, glancing at me, "But I hope ya know that if you expect to form a, uh, relationship with my niece then I expect you to be on your best behavior. She is a lady, and as such she requires a gentleman, I know that you're both teenagers and I'm not saying that what y'all were doing was bad, and yes, I saw you two on the porch and in her room, and really for how smart you are how you didn't think to close the door or take her inside before defiling her for the world to see is beyond me. But that doesn't mean that I want y'all up in her room with the door closed."

She was still telling me all about how she expects me to keep her niece pure and how she knows that people are becoming more and more rampant these days when we pulled up in front of my house. And to my suprise Darry and Soda were out front. Darry was sitting on the porch in an old wicker chair, beer in hand as Two-bit sat beside him talking his ear off. Soda had his head under the hood of the truck so I can only assume it broke down again, and his head stayed stuffed in the old engine even when Darry and Two stopped talking as I got out and said thanks and goodbye to Mrs. Wilson.

"Pony," Darry eyes me, "Where the hell were you,"

"I went on a walk, honest, then I kinda ran into a friend," I was lying through my teeth and I know it's wrong but Dar would murder me if he knew that I'd gone out to meet a girl without telling him or Soda and then kissed said girl multiple time, again without him or Soda knowing that I'd even had interest in a girl, though Soda does though Dar doesn't know that,"And we got caught up, she's Mrs. Wilson's niece and so we went back to her place and hung out."

Darry opened his mouth to answer, more like lecture, me when Soda popped his head out from under the hood of the car,

"Niece, you say? As in a female offspring of someone's sibling?" He taunts, knowing full well that the niece that I'd told him about was the same one I'd just spent the majority of the day with, though in my defense it hadn't seemed like that long at the time.

"Offspring? That's a mighty big word for you Soda," I shoot back at him, still eyeing Dar, waiting for him to chew me out.

"Well maybe I'm just trying to get smarter, expand my vocabulary and all that, some chicks dig a guy that can sound all artsy sometimes, and I figure that if I'm related to you then I gotta be able to sound smart sometimes," Soda explains, throwing a rag over his shoulder, walking over to me and putting me in a headlock, mussing up my hair.

"Ack," I say, pulling out and getting away from him, "get off of me," then I add just to show off the smartness that seems to define me, "And while I do approve of your attempt to use different vernacular I quite think it necessary to work on your diction before adding in higher level words because otherwise you'll just sound like you read a dictionary and are spouting out whatever you feel like."

"Oh to hell with ya," Soda says flicking the rag in my direction, though he isn't that mad if the bright, and ever genuine smile on his face is any indicator, "this just proves my point."

"What point is that?" I ask over my shoulder, slowly ambling towards the steps, and consequently, Darry.

"That I'm related to the smartest person on the planet," He says with a satisfied grin decorating his face.

I roll my eyes and walk up the steps, determined to try to walk into the house without getting an earful from my brother.

"Not so fast." Darry put his arm across the door, barring me from entry.

"Yeah Dar?" I ask timorously, looking up at him.

"You wanna tell me why you left us worrying about where you were? And don't tell me that you were with Mrs. Wilson because I'm 99% sure that he has a phone that ya coulda called on…" He berated.

"Well, ya see, I would've, but-"

"But what? There are no buts in this, now would ya like to tell me what y'all did all day?"

I thought about it for a second, I decide that, you know what he's gonna find out eventually… so why not tell him now, when I can get in front of it. Plus, I love Soda, I really do, but with this i just know he's gonna be a real pain, Darry might not make as big of a deal out of it.

"Dar, uh can I talk to you?" I manage, my nerves on all the ways this could go wrong overriding any sense of calm i could've mustered.

"Sure," He said plainly, crossing his arms and awaiting my answer.

"Uh, well actually, I was kinda hoping we could talk alone?"

Darry lifted an eyebrow in question, but opened the door and went inside nonetheless. I followed him into the kitchen and leaned against the counter and watched as he opened the fridge and got out a Pepsi. He walks over and hands it to me before taking a seat at the table, pulling out the chair next to him and motioning for me to sit there.

"So," he says awkwardly, "what's this about?"

"Uh, well I guess I just have this thing going on and I don't know what to do about it and I know that Soda's gonna make a real big deal out of it and just-"

"Ok, ok calm down," He cautioned, folding his arms and leaning back on the chair.

"Ok, just promise that you won't make a big deal out of it?" I ask simply, looking down at the half drunk Pepsi in my hands, normally I'd down it in a few sips but right now I'm far too nervous worrying about I don't even know what. It's Darry, I can trust him, but that thought doesn't calm my nerves that are going rampant inside my mind.

"Alright, I promise." He looks bored yet interested, like he just wants me to get on with it but is interested in what I may say.

"Well… uh, when I said I was hanging out with a friend today, technically I was, I just forgot to mention that I may or may not like her as more than a friend, and I'm pretty sure she likes me like that too and I have no idea what to do about it and just uuugggghhhhhh," I throw my head back and groan, "I always thought that it wouldn't be that hard, girls i mean, but here i am with one that i like in a way i never have before and I'm extremely confused."

I'm not sure what reaction I expected him to have but it surely wasn't that his face would crack into a rarely seen, genuine grin.

"Oh? You thought it'd be easy, now did ya. And what makes you think that she likes ya like that, not that I'm saying that she doesn't you just may want to be sure before ya ask her out. I don't want to see you coming in here, tail between your legs, with a broken heart."

"Well, I think she does, I mean she did kiss me on the way back to her place, and then we kissed again on her porch, and then again before I left."

"Glory, Pone, uh yeah I don't think you have anything to worry about. Does Soda know about this by any chance?"

"Uh, well… he knows that I like Maria, that's her name, um, but he doesn't know that we kissed, he couldn't know since it just happened," I explain, taking another sip of the now warmer Pepsi.

"Alright, so…" He looks at me expectantly.

"So? So what?" I ask confused.

"So, are ya gonna ask her out or what?"

"Well yeah I was hoping to." My eyes are glued to the dwindling amount of liquid in the glass bottle in my hands.

"What're you planning on asking her to do?"

"I have no idea." I say plainly, and it's true. I have no clue what to ask her to do, I don't want to be too cliche but I don't want to bore her either.

"Why don't you ask her to the movies?"

"We did that last time."

"Last time?"

"Uh, yeah, last night, Mrs. Wilson asked me to show her around because she just moved here, and we walked around and saw a movie together,"

We talked about it for a while longer, and he said he'd help me come up with an idea for a date, as long as he got to meet her, and as long it didn't interfere with school. About twenty minutes later Soda and Two-bit headed through the door and Steve followed a few minutes later, reminding Soda that he and Evie had a double date with him and Sandy tonight. We said bye to Soda and hung out 'till I could hardly keep my eyes open and Darry sent me to bed. And as I slept all I could think of was the next time that I would get to see Maria and the anticipation builds with every second until the next time I get to feel her soft lips on mine again.


	10. Homework

It was another week until I could hang out with Maria again. I saw her walking home with a friend as I was finishing up with track, they'd seen me and she'd stopped to watch the last 5 minutes. After that Maria asked me if I'd walk home with them, I could tell that her friend, who'd introduced herself as Rachel, was slightly uncomfortable at my being there. But when Maria looked at me with a hopeful gleam in her eye I couldn't say no, which is how I ended up walking with her and her friend to her house where we split up.

Rachel said goodbye and kept on walking down the street to her house, I was about to say goodbye myself when she invited me inside. And so now we're sitting on her couch, our books on strewn across our laps as I help her with some English homework.

"So, you have to make sure to start a new paragraph whenever you do that, ok, it's not always a big deal but Mrs. Kinley is a stickler for this stuff," I warn after reading through the short story that she'd asked me to proofread.

"Ok, thanks by the way, I love reading but my writing kinda bad," she mumbles the last part, picking at the fraying threads on the border of the sofa which she suddenly finds very interesting.

"Hey," I say picking up her chin and forcing her eyes to meet mine, "you're good, _this_ is good, you just need to be careful to not write in blob paragraphs, but that can be fixed with practice."

Maria looks at me and leans in, and though we've done this a few times now it still blows my mind how soft her lips are. I love how gentle she is in moving her lips against mine, even though I'm sure we'd both suck if compared to anyone else I wouldn't want to be kissing anyone else.

"Ahem," We hear from behind us, jumping apart. Maria shuffles to fix her hair which my hand had mussed up sightly. Mrs. Wilson gives me a pointed look, reminding me of the little chat we'd had in her car.

"Hi, Maggie," Maria says, clearly embarrassed, though she grabs my hand and holds it tight nonetheless.

"Doing homework I see," she eyes us suspiciously.

"Yes, ma'am," I say, straightening up in my seat, "I was just helpin' Maria with an English project."

I look to Maria to back me up,

"Yeah, Maggie, he was just helping me with a paper I have due, he's an amazing writer and I thought you wouldn't mind me asking him over."

"Oh no I don't mind one bit, I just.. Ya know… wanna make sure that y'all're behavin'," Mrs. Smith says, waving her hands dismissively, scurrying through an archway that led to the kitchen.

"I really should be goin' now, I'd love to stay with you all night but I have a history project due on Thursday and I haven't even found the book I'm supposed to read yet," I explain, packing up my math homework that I'd gotten out and started.

"I'll come with you, we can go to the library and find the book you need." Maria gets up and follows me through the doorway to the front entrance.

She walks in front of me and bends down at the waist to slip on her shoes. I really should b be more cautious with when I'm eyeing Maria the way that I am, not that I'm saying that this'll happen often, that'd be jinxing it. Though I'd been in situations like this with her more than I could've imagined and I won't ever complain about getting to see something as amazing as her… eyes. I see her eyes flit back to me and I swear Maria bends over even further and takes a little longer than necessary to slip her heel into her black flat, and she sure takes her time getting back up, not that I'm complaining, though when she's standing upright again she averts her eyes and doesn't meet my eyes until we're a block away from her house.

We get to the library after a relatively short walk and head in, ringing the little bell above the door as we do so. She holds my hand as I skim the shelves, my gaze searching for the title my teacher had assigned me. I almost miss it when my focus is brought to her thumb as it brushed back and forth on my arm. I stop short and turned to her, and I'm glad we're hidden between the rows of books which shield us from the unyielding, scrutinizing gaze that people usually reserve for teens involved in PDA. I grab her face and bring us close together.

"God, you're amazin'," I whisper, pressing my forehead against hers and staring into her clear blue eyes.

Maria started to lean in further but we heard the bell hanging above the door ringing and remember where we are. I clear my throat awkwardly and turn to the bookshelf to resume my search only to find myself face to face with the title I was looking for. I grab the book and Maria suggests that I get a little reading done here.

"But my brothers…" I start to protest, but she presses a finger to my lips to quiet me.

"I'll go tell Marissa that you need to use the back phone to make a phone call." She grabs my hand again and takes me up to the front desk and tells Ms. Clarke, Marissa, that we need to use the phone in the back room.

Ms. Clarke, it feels weird calling her by her first name, opens the door for us and sits back down at her desk, re-opening her book and sticking her nose in it. We go into the back room, I'm not sure what I was expecting but it was very anticlimactic. It's just an extra desk and a big chair next to some folded ones stacked on top of eachother, there are some books that look to be falling apart, probably too destroyed to be put back on the shelf, with some old movie posters decorating the plain walls and lots of papers spilling out of the drawers.

"Ok, so what's your number?" Maria asks, twisting the phone sitting next to a typewriter on the desk so it faced her, her hand levitating above the dial as she awaited my number. I told her and she spun the dial, calling my house. I took the phone from her and put it to my ear, listening to the ringing that was also playing out in my house for whoever was home to hear.

"Hello?" I hear through the phone, recognizing it as Two-bit.

"Hey, Two," I say, twisting the phone wire around my finger.

"Pone!" He says with far too much enthusiasm, "Don't worry you can stay outside the school and I'll get ya in a few minutes-"

"Actually," I cut him off, knowing that if I let him start talking he'd never stop, "I was callin' to tell you that I went to the library and that I'll just walk home…"

"Oh, come on Pone, we both know that I told your brothers that I'd pick ya up from track and they'd murder me if they found out I'd let ya walk, I'll just come get ya in an hour from the library," He argues, clearly trying to save his ass from getting beat by Darry.

My eyes flit to Maria who's taken to rifling through some old files, I know that I can't leave her here alone, that's just bad manners, but I also can't leave on my own and risk Two-bit getting yelled at on account of me walking Maria home. She looks up and when she finds my eyes on her she shoots me a small smile, I smile back and she quickly looks back at the papers in her hands.

"-And so what I learned from that little adventure is when Darry tells you to do something, namely pick up his little brother from track, you pick up his brother from track," He rambles, finishing I story I didn't know I'd listened to.

"Uh-huh," I mumble, focusing more on Maria and the slow pace with which she moves towards me than the words coming out of my mouth, "Ok, yeah, yep, uh, I'll t-talk to ya later Two, Bye."

"Taken care of?" She asks, an innocent look on her face as she remains blissfully unaware of the tugging in my heart, leering to be closer, to hold her to my chest and never let go, to get a big fuzzy blanket and hold her close to me while watching a new Paul Newman movie.

"Ye-Ah," I'm sure I look like a tomato as my voice cracks,

 _Oh no, oh god no, please don't let this start happening now_ ,

She stifles a laugh behind her hand and grabs my forearm and leads me back out to the rows of bookshelves, I check out my books with Ms. Clarke and Maria takes me back to the red couch in the secluded back corner.

The library's almost empty so I make a big deal out of plopping down and stretching out as far as I could, though it isn't a very big couch so my legs dangle over the armest. She just smiles and stands over me, rolling her eyes. She lifts my head and shoulders and sits down, letting me fall back down and onto her lap.

I smile up at her and open my book, getting lost in its pages. I'm only semi-aware of the hand that Maria's running through my hair, messing it up and getting the grease I'd put in it all over her hand no doubt, though she doesn't seem to mind so much so I just keep reading.

The library stayed quiet for a while longer, the faint shuffle of shoes on carpet and the occasional turn of a page were the only things filling my ears.

 _Ding._

The library door opens and the hushed room was overcome by the loud footfalls and jingling keys of the library's newest patron. I look up to see my friends head pop around the corner of a bookshelf that had kept us hidden.

"Hey, Pone," Two-bit's voice says in a theatrical whisper, "Ooooo, who's this pretty lady?"

I get up and sit upright next to her,

"This is Maria, Maria this idiot is my friend Two-bit."

"Hi," she waves awkwardly, bouncing her leg and looking down at her leg.

Two shoots her a smile before turning to me.

"Ready to go Pone? I'll even give yer little lady friend a ride if she needs one too," Two nods to Maria.

"Oh no, you don't need to, I'll just get a ride from Marissa," She assures me that it'll be fine before offering to walk outside to say goodbye.

After hearing the _Ding_ of the little bell above the door one more time we stand just outside Two-bit's truck. Two clambers in while I stand, my back to its rusting door with Maria. She grabs my hand, gives me a smile, and although he can't see my face I'm pretty sure that Two-bit can see the kiss she plants on my cheek. I can feel my ears turning red and I have to force myself to not look down at my foot as I dig the toe into the ground, but to meet Maria's eyes and say goodbye. She starts walking back into the library as I start climbing into the truck, not looking forward to facing the inevitable teasing from my friend.

I buckle my seatbelt I turn myself towards the window, the book I'd checked out in my lap, taking great interest to the now barren trees and boring brick buildings that line the cracked concrete. Two-bit turns the music on the radio up, surely bouncing his head to the beat. We sit listening to the music in semi-awkward silence for most of the ride after Two tries asking me questions but only gets one-word answers in return. I'm not mad at him, my mind just isn't in conversation mode right now.

I'm off in a different world as we pull up to my house, and I hardly register saying hi to Johnny as I walk inside before going to my room and reading the book I had gotten, spending the rest of the night playing cards and eating with the gang, finishing my homework and retiring to bed with Soda.


	11. Quilts

My coughing and wheezing didn't start 'till next Thursday, I woke up at 2 am with a pounding in my head. The thumping of my feet on old, creaky wood woke up Darry which led him to find me hunched over the toilet with last night's dinner making another appearance. My loud retching awoke Soda, and he trudged into the bathroom, bleary-eyed, took a seat beside Darry on the edge of the tub and stayed with me until I fell asleep two hours later.

It's noon when I next come to and although I was awake everyone spoke about me like I wasn't. They were treating me like a baby and I hate it, I don't need Soda making me soup and Darry asking me if I needed anything every five seconds.

 _I'm not a little kid, I don't need their doting,_ I think even though my eyes are heavy and falling closed as Soda drapes another of mom's old quilts over me.

 _Ring…_

 _Ring…_

 _Ri-_

"Hello?" I hear Steve's irritated voice through my sleepy haze, too tired to open my eyes I lay there on the couch.

"Uh, no, he can't talk right now… Who?" and even though I can't see him I can practically _hear_ the raise of his eyebrows and the self-satisfied smirk that's surely crossing his features, "Ok… Yeah, I'll tell 'im."

My head starts fogging up again, my head lolling on the pillow Soda insisted on giving me though I can't get fully back to sleep on account of Steve whispering, quiet loudly might I add,

"Does Pony have a girlfriend?"

"I think so," I hear Two-bit's theatrical whisper, "I picked 'im up from the liberry the other day and he was getting real cozy with some chick on a couch, then she went outside with us and kissed his cheek, and I swear he was blushin' something awful, hardly spoke the drive back."

"Really?" Steve's astonished tone almost offends me enough to alert them of my consciousness.

"Oh yeah," Dally's voice joins the mix, " awhile back I was with Johnnycake and we saw 'em at the theater, and man, lemme tell y'all that they were sittin' real close, her head was all on his shoulder an' everything. And when they left they were all blushy and holding hands and shit."

"Shit, Pone's got himself a gal," Two-bit sounds amused and confused at the same time, making me bristle, don't they think I could get a girl if I wanted to.

"Speaking of which, there was a girl who just called for Pony, said something about them having plans for last night that he never showed up to," Steve says, his laughter barely hidden, "Said her name was Maria Moretti or something and she seemed real upset that she got stood up."

"Yeah man me an' Johnny saw em together, right Johnnycake," Dally says and I hear him slap him lightly on the back.

"Uh, yeah, we saw 'em on a date," Johnny's quiet voice says, "and a while back he told me about her when they were goin' out for the first time, he really digs her, and from what I've heard she seems like a real nice gal."

"Really?" Dally asks, clearly curious, "What'd he say?"

"Well, I mean, he said she was real pretty, and cute, and nice, and pretty funny too, he seems to really dig her…"

That's the most I've heard Johnny say in a long while, and that's all he says for the rest of the night. Even after I 'wake up'.

"Mmhhh," I stretch my back and open my eyes lazily, bringing one arm up to rub the sleep out of them, "what time is it?"

"Uh, what, like 8?" Two looks uncertain so I twist to get a peek at the old clock that Mom hung above the archway that leads to our homely- no, well loved, kitchen.

I can't see him but I start to hear the clattering and sloshing of dishes being washed.

 _It was supposed to be my night,_ I think offhandedly, bringing moms quilt up to my chin and sitting up and pulling my knees to my chest.

As everyone else asks me how I feel and moves on with their conversation Johnny moves to occupy the now empty space that I was lying down in before. We sit there in silence, lost in thought, letting the world go on around us as we sit inside a bubble that includes only us on my couch. And as I let my mind drift towards the bubble we're encased in it reminds me of the bubble I'd been in earlier with Maria.

My legs ache as I stand for the first time in 3 hours. I go to my room, away from the loud voices of my friends which are making my head pound. I flop onto the bed and stare up at the ceiling. My lights are off so the only light in the room seeps in from the crack under the closed door or the bright moon whose glow is dimmed by the tattered, sheer curtains that cover the window above my bed.

The muffled voices of the gang become loud again and my room floods with light as my door is opened. Johnny walks in, closed the door behind him, the faint creek that's starting to form with the aging hinges of the door hardly audible over the voices of the gang. He shuffles over to my bed and lies down next to me.

We're silent for a long while, listening to the sounds of the wind and rustling trees and trains as well as the rest of our friends in the living room play a very loud game of poker.

"Johnny?" I break the silence, "have you ever kissed anyone?"

"Once," He answers slowly, "in seventh grade, pretty sure she only did it 'cause she was dared to though… Why?"

"Maria… uh, we kissed. Multiple times. I liked it. A lot. Kissing, or kissing her to be exact, I haven't exactly kissed anyone else before." I stumble over my words and my voice sounds weird and nasally because of my stuffy nose but a smile is still present on my face.

"Really Pone? That's awesome." His voice is quiet but he's genuine in his approval.

We sit there, hushed voices in a secret conversation that no one will ever know took place except for us. That's how most of our conversations are, we don't need to be flashy or loud to get our points across, we'd much rather quietly discuss our ideas and misfortunes in a way that won't broadcast to everyone within a ten-foot radius. And so we lay there, our muted words filling my room until the moon is high in the sky and the hour is late, I offer that Johnny stays here but he declines, saying his dad's off on a trip with a friend and his mother won't so much as look at him so he should be safe to sleep in his own bed tonight.

After he leaves I crawl under the covers and drift into darkness, my mind filling with the endless possibilities for the stories and ideas that constantly flow around my mind, a fraction of which I find good enough to share with my closest confidants, my brother, my friends and now this really amazing girl who has, in hardly more than a months time, wedged herself in my mind and heart.


	12. Clearings and Questions

Two months.

It's been two months since I first laid eyes on Maria Moretti.

And these past two months… well, they've been some of the best ever.

It was nice, that's the only way to describe it. The light breeze blowing through the barren trees, shaking their brown branches of any leaves that have managed to hold on this long. The sun high in the sky, ridding me of the bite of the cold when I stood still for long enough. The morning dew that's turned to ice, making the dying grass crunch underfoot. But above all, the most perfect thing about that day was her.

She looked amazing, she was amazing, she _is_ amazing. Though her brownish-blondish hair that had recently been cut to end just beneath her shoulder blades seemed to flair around her with the wind. The sun hitting her blue eyes just right to make them look more clear than the sky. Her puffy jacket encasing her and making her look like an Eskimo even though it's only 40 degrees because, as I have learned, Maria doesn't do cold.

I picked her up and started walking her towards a clearing in the woods I had once gone to with a friend from school. His name's Pat-Patrick, but no one calls him that. We sit next to each other in science and we've become pretty good friends, school friends, that is. We don't see each other except for in class and when we pass in the noisy halls, sparing no more than a glance and a smile for the other. But we were talking while cutting up a frog and somehow the topic of girls came up. I mentioned Maria, a big mistake.

He bombarded me with an onslaught of questions, I answered them begrudgingly and when he asked if we were official I told him the truth: we weren't. He was scandalized, then when he asked if I wanted to be and said yes he started to tell me about this spot, this clearing; apparently it's real pretty in the spring, with all the flowers and whatnot, but winter was gorgeous too, with the trees surrounding it and the sun overhead and red and brown leaves scattered on the muted grass. He told me I had to take her and ask her out, like officially, there. He tried giving me oral directions but they were confusing and not at all clear.

When I was walking out of the school I was about to go find Two and Steve and Johnny when Pat came up to me, he suggested that he just showed me the spot. Apparently, it wasn't too far off from middle school, which is, conveniently, on the other side of town. Darry always used to rag on me when Mom and Dad made him drive me to school because he had to go all the way across town and back to get me to the middle school then get himself back to high school.

But I didn't mind the walk, sure the air was crisp and cool but it was a welcome difference from the moist, suffocating scent and feel of a high school locker room. Plus, I hadn't ever really taken much notice to how funny Pat was. Our normal conversations are nice but pretty mundane but as we walked I couldn't stop the laughter from bubbling out of me or the smile from slipping onto my face. When we finally arrived and he was showing me his favorite tree to sit in and hide away from the rest of the world I thought to myself,

 _I should talk to him like this more often._

Pat showed me some more hidden nooks and crannies before we set off. He's more middle class so halfway home he turned left onto a row of nice looking, white picket fence houses, with mostly recent coats of paint and yards people actually bother to mow. I kept on going, and going, and going until the sound of trains chugging was clear and the houses look forgotten, their paint chipped and their yards as unkempt as their owners… mostly.

There are a few good souls who live near us, our parents made sure we knew that. There's Mrs. Monnely and her daughter, Jessica, who was in my grade but then I got moved up and she got held back, they live just up the road from us, they're real nice, it's a shame Mr. Monnely passed away. Then if you keep on going past our road and hang a left you'll find Mr. and Mrs. Berkley and their daughter Betty and son Christopher.

They try real hard to seem like they're fine but you can hear 'em screaming at each other all the way from my place, it's almost like the Cade's except for the fact that they love their children, I'm pretty sure that's the only reason they stay together, so their kids won't have to live through their divorce. The list goes on, families who try but never quite make it, everyone on our side of town is broken in some way.

But I digress, Maria looked even more beautiful than the sunset that we sat and watched from our spot on a rock that's nestled between two trees on the outskirts of the clearing. And because both Darry and Mrs. Wilson said we could stay out kinda late I wait until the last pink rays are making their way over the horizon until I turn to the gorgeous girl next to me.

"Can I ask you a question?" I ask slowly, looking over at Maria, her face glowing with the yellow and pink light of the setting sun.

"Of course," She replies, her voice gentle even with her harsh northeastern accent which has such a stark contrast from the slow and deep southern accent that I have.

"Well, I've known you for a little while now and, well I really like ya, in a way which I've never liked anyone before."

"Aww, I like you too Pony," She blushes, putting her cold fingers atop mine.

"Um yeah, but I was hoping that maybe you'd like to be with me… like officially." I look at her face as she turns to me, a light breeze blowing hair into her face, the setting sun creating long shadows through her hair.

"I'd love that," she whispers and leans in.

As I walk through my front door I'm as happy as I've been in a long time.

 _I have a girlfriend, an actual, official girlfriend,_ I think to myself.

"What are you so smiley about?" My oldest brother asks, and I don't skip a beat in turning to him and replying,

"I have a girlfriend." Before I go to my room, closing my door and flopping face first into the pillows.


	13. Over to the house

"So, what do you want to do tonight?" Maria asks, the brisk air adding a rosy tint to her cheeks.

"I don't know, I can't stay out too late, Darry wants us to be home for dinner at 5 today." The loose gravel of the park crunching underfoot as we walk along with our intertwined hands swinging in between us.

"Oh, well, maybe we could just go over to your house, then at least you can't get in trouble for being out too late," she suggests, looking up at me through hopeful eyes.

"Yeah," my other hand goes up to scratch the back of my neck, "my brother gets off work soon so it should be ok."

She smiles. I can feel my heart beating in my chest, and for a moment I wonder if she can hear it; hear the effect she has on me. I try to keep my composure, to not let on how much her small smile affects me. I try to concentrate on where we're going. I don't want my hands to start sweating from nerves. I know that if I keep thinking about how adorable she looks with her rosy cheeks and small dimple on her right side. I have to get my mind off of the way her eyes light up when she talks about her home and her parents. Her home. I have to keep that in mind, she won't be here forever, in fact she's only going to be here a few more months.

"When are you going home?" I ask, peering at her as we turn down my street. She looks up at me, slightly surprised that I brought it up.

"My parents get back at the end of June," She answers, "Why?"

"Oh, well I just wanted a refresher I guess, on how much time we have left." She looks down sadly.

"I'm sorry," she says, "I wish we had more time together… I like you, a lot and I hope that once I'm gone you'll remember me."

"Of course I'll remember you!" I exclaim and as we turn into my driveway I grab her arm and twist Maria so she's facing me.

I squeeze her hand and bring my other hand to her cheek. I lift her chin so her eyes are looking into mine. Stepping closer so our noses are touching I press my lips to hers. They're soft, and a bit dry but I don't care. But as much as I enjoy kissing her we have to stop, we're in my driveway where anybody can see us.

I pull away and lead her up the creaky steps with the peeling paint that lead to my home. I open the screen door, then the wooden one behind it, holding them for Maria. Once she's inside I close them, careful to not let them slam on the way in. As I walk further into my house, comfortable as ever, I notice that Maria stands awkwardly in the entrance.

Her eyes meet mine and I beckon her closer. Pulling her farther into my home. I pull her onto the couch next to me and, still holding hands, we lean close to each other and have a whispered conversation filled with jokes that only we understand and references that most people on our side of town wouldn't dream of knowing.

Our little bubble of friendship and something more isn't broken until my brother lumbers into our house, the door slamming behind him. His DX shirt peeking out from under his jacket. He heads straight for the kitchen, barely getting out a 'hey Pony' as he rushes past.

"...and that would be my brother, Soda," I say, her baffled expression making a google bubble out of me.

"Is he always so.." She stares at me at a loss for words.

"High energy? Bubbly? Excited?" I supply, "Yes, yes he is."

She stares at me a moment longer before she bursts out laughing.

"If I burst into my house like that my parents would have my hide." She says, her giggles subsiding.

We keep talking and talking, paying no mind to the bumps from the next room over of my brother bumbling around his room. It isn't until the bumps and small crashes stop that I look to his door with curiosity in my eyes. The door squeaks open and my brother pops out. He looks as if he's about to ask me something then stops.

"...Who are you?" he asks, pointing towards Maria, a light smile gracing his lips.

"I'm Maria," She answers simply, brushing a small piece of hair out of her face.

"Uh, okay then, Pone?" He shot a pointed expression at me, "Can you come help me in the kitchen?"

"Sure," I nod, though I know that I'd be going even if I'd disagreed.

He ushers me into the kitchen and shoots a charming smile at Maria before pulling me through the doorway and out of her sight.

"Who is she?" He asks curiosity in his tone, excitement on his face.

"My girlfriend." The words still feel foreign in my mouth, it feels like a lie that such a flawless being would even look at me, let alone agree to being my girl.

"Really? That's awesome Pone! I can't believe you didn't tell me about this-"

"I kind of did…" I interrupt, acutely aware of the fact that his rising volume would make it incredibly difficult for Maria to not hear us.

"You said that you thought you liked a girl, that's hardly the same as her bein' your steady. Plus, that was over a month ago, you shoulda brought her 'round or at least told me sooner!"

"I would've… I guess I was just worried that it wouldn't last. That she'd find someone better and leave. I didn't want to tell you guys then have to say we broke up like a day later." I say, shaking his arm off the shoulder it had been squeezing.

He looks like he wants to say something else, maybe some words of encouragement or maybe he was going to berate me about not telling him sooner but I never gave him the chance. I lope past him and head back to the living room where Maria sits on the couch. She peers up at me questioningly.

"I'll tell you later." I sit back down next to her and after a few awkward breaths that feel far too heavy I feel her pinky brush mine. I look over to her and see her with one hand aimlessly messing with the hem of her top. Meanwhile the other hand just so happens to be laid next to my own, unmoving as she waits for me to initiate what she so clearly wants. I open my hand and slide it into her palm, our fingers intertwined and I feel my head and heart get lighter as a wave of happiness washes over me.

I'm almost able to enjoy my happiness but Soda walks in before I can tell Maria just how beautiful she looks in that moment. Instead of me proclaiming to my girlfriend how gorgeous she is, though, my brother waltzes in and takes the remaining seat next to me on the couch. I slowly turn my head and give him an incredulous stare.

"Can I help you?" I ask through gritted teeth, unbelievable annoyed at my brother; i just want a few minutes alone with Maria… Is that so much to ask?

"Yeah, you can actually." He ignores my stare, in fact he ignores me entirely, looking around me at Maria. "Hi, I'm Soda, I don't believe we've been introduced."

Maria stared at his outstretched hand for a moment before dropping my hand and shaking his.

"I'm Maria," She says sweetly, "It's nice to finally meet you."

"Finally?" He lifts an eyebrow and shoots me a curious look.

"Of course, I've just heard so much about you and your brother that it's nice to finally put the name to a face."

"All good things I hope." His charming smile practically glitters as he says it, throwing an arm around me and shaking me a bit.

"Only the best." She shoots me a pointed look, most likely remembering the annoyed rants she'd had to endure after I got into fights with Darry… there hadn't been many in the past month and a half, but still.

"So, since my dear brother ain't told me much 'bout ya why don't you fill me in." And so we sit and talk about Maria and I.

When we met, our first date, yada yada yada. Soda had a lot of questions about Maria- where's she from? how long is she staying? how's she liking it here? What grade is she in? Does she like school? Reading? Favorite food? Favorite color? If she could only take one thing to a deserted island what would it be?

"What?" She asked, a bewildered look painting her features.

"If you were stranded on an island, and you could only have one thing with you, what would that thing be?" He laughs as he repeats his question.

"Uhhhh," she thinks, "a book."

"A book? Damn, Pone, she really is your type of gal. What book?" He shakes his head as if he's unable to believe I found another person who loves books as much as I do.

She smiles mischievously before saying, quite smugly, night I add-

"How to build a raft."

Soda is practically crying from laughter just as Darry comes through the door...


	14. Dinner

My big brother's huge frame tramps through the door as he lumbers in the house. His muddy boots getting dirt all over the entryway as he leans down to take them off. The bags under his eyes are prominent as he rubs at his back. He looks straight at Maria through bleary eyes and says,

"Hey Pony, hey Soda."

And he keeps walking, he almost makes it to the kitchen before he turns around and points a confused finger at Maria.

"Who..?" He mumbles, a most addled look painting his features.

"It's the gal Steve was talkin' 'bout, the one on the phone." Soda says cheerfully.

"Hi," Maria squeaks, "I'm Maria."

"Hi, um, why… are you here?" He questions.

"Well," her eyes dart to mine, filled with uncertainty, "I came over to hang out with Pony."

"Oh, so _you're_ the girl?" He asks, rubbing his temples, he really don't look too good.

"Yeah, we're dating." She says simply, taking my hand and looking at me with the most adorable smile on her lips.

"So he asked ya. That's awesome Pone."He says, "well I'll be in my room if y'all need anythin'"

And with that he ambles over to his room and we all hear a loud ' _Floopmf'_ as he, presumably, flops face first onto his bed.

My confused gaze shifts from the hallway Darry had retreated into to Soda. He refuses to meet my gaze.

"Hey Soda?" I ask tightly.

"Yeah Pone?" He answers innocently, looking up at me with puppy dog eyes.

"The hell were you talkin' about?"

"Oh, that, that was nothing… ya know, just, uh, coming up with bull… ya know." he tries to come up with excuses but I can see him floundering.

"Don't go blaming your Freudian slip on a whim."

"Freudian what now?"

"Freudian slip," Maria supplies, "It's when you accidentally say what you were really thinking."

"Ain't that interesting, there really is a word for everything. Do ya'll know any other fancy-schmancy words?"

"Don't change the subject Soda!" I say, getting impatient, I squeeze Maria's hand tighter and pull her closer to me.

"Promise you won't be mad?" He asks.

"Promise." I nod, and I feel Maria settling in against me, her back to my chest, and I know that I really won't be mad. After all, how could I be mad when I had Maria sitting so close to me?

"Welllllllll," He drags out the word, stalling for a final moment, "Remember when you were sick? Well, Maria called the house wondering why you hadn't shown up to a date and Steve picked up the phone… after that it was pretty easy to figure out that you had a steady."

"Why didn't you tell me you knew?" I asked, furrowing my brow.

"We figured that you'd tell us on your own time." He shrugged, getting up from the couch, "What do you want for dinner Pone? It's my night to cook."

I can tell from his bright smile that whatever he end up making won't look the way it wa originally intended. I also know that we just bought more food dye so…

"Oh, and Maria, are you staying for dinner?"

"I wouldn't want to intrude," She says quickly, shaking her head, eyes drifting to our connected hands.

"You wouldn't be intruding. I'm sure Darry wouldn't mind another person… hell, most of the time we have at least two other people joining us, and they ain't anywhere near as nice to look at." I smile at her. She smiles back. I squeeze her hand. She squeezes back.

She lifts her eyes from our hands and her gaze is captivating. The orange, glowing sunlight that passes through the window panes paints her face, illuminating her skin in a way which made her look bewitching in a way that I'd never seen a girl look. I stare at her. She stares back. The way that she bites her bottom lip entrances me. The way she shifts forward mesmerizes me. The eager look in her eye catches my breath in my throat. But the feeling of true bliss doesn't overcome me until her soft lips press against mine.

My hand lay awkwardly at my side until Maria guides it to her waist. We let go of each other's hands and my newly freed fingers make their way to the back of her neck, keeping her pressed up against me. Her arm snakes around my neck and a hand makes its way to my shoulder. Our lips become more frantic as they press against each other.

I feel stirring deep inside me, _low down_ inside me. This new feeling splinters my absorption into her soft, warm, sweet, incred-... her lips. I drag my hand up her waist, the feeling of her warm skin under the fabric of her shirt making my heart race. I'm sure she can hear my pumping heart as my hand brushes against her chest. I'm quick to move my hand to her shoulder and pull away.

My eyes are wide, as are hers. We stare at each other. Our slightly labored breaths mixing together as I let these newly emerging feelings blossom inside me. My hands itch to go back to where they were, drag back down her body and to her waist. My mind keeps replaying the feeling of her leg against mine and her hand squeezing my shoulder.

I'm broken out of my reverie by a loud clanging of pots and pans in the kitchen, a cacophonous and very needed reminder that my brother is just behind the wall in the next room. The usual dissonant sounds that accompany his disastrous cooking, if you can even call it that, clutter the house.

Before long Darry stumbles out of the hallway,

"The hell are you doin' Soda?" He squaks from the doorway.

"Making chicken!" Soda yells back, far too loudly for someone less than 5 feet away.

"And the hell are you yellin' for? I'm right here, ya don't need to holler." He berates, shooting Soda a look filled with familiar annoyance, though laughter is clear in his eyes.

We realize our moment had passed, we have to scoot slightly away from each other. Our Fingers find each others and we hold on tightly as Darry engages us in polite conversation. He asked us about when we officially got together. Maria's surprised look was beyond amusing as she found out that Darry had helped me with planning how I'd ask her.

"Why'd you need to plan it?" Was her confused question.

"I just really wanted you to say yes," I reply, using my free hand to scratch my suddenly itchy neck.

"I would've said yes no matter what way you asked," she says, and the smile on my face and the lightness in my chest can't be held at bay, "Really, I'm just happy you want to be with me."

I smile, a real, genuine smile, and she smiles back with the same ardor. As I gaze into the seemingly endlessly deep orbs that are her eyes I feel like I could get lost. I feel like I do when I see a sunset, entranced, enthralled, content.

"Dinner!" Soda's loud voice makes me jump, making Maria laugh.

We slowly stand up and meander our way to the table and sit in the mismatched chairs. I sit next to Maria, our fingers touching discreetly under the table. For the most part, dinner was filled with jokes and laughter and embarrassing anecdotes about my childhood, but by far my favorite part was right at the beginning.

"What is that?" Her quiet voice draws my attention from Darry's laughter. Her wide eyes are locked on Soda's blue chicken and mashed potatoes that were almost the same color as the green beans sitting next to them.

"Chicken." I look at her plainly, "Soda likes to get creative with food dye, I promise it ain't poison."

Her light chuckle and amused smile make it impossible to look away. Distantly, I can hear my brothers asking me a question but I don't answer right away. We eat, and talk, and talk and eat, and I smile the entire time. I have some of my favorite people in the world, my brothers, and a girl who makes me so happy I feel like I could burst.

Darry offers to drive us, but we share a look and say that we'll walk instead.

"Remember a jacket! It's real cold out Pone!" Darry yells after my jacketless frame.

I shiver as we meander, hand in hand, back to her house. The trip which is almost familiar seems to be lengthened tenfold by the cold bite of the winter air on my skin. When we turn onto her street, the orange glow of the streetlights casting an orange halo on Maria's skin and I wish i had longer to stare at the golden affect before we reach her front door.

"They're nice, your brothers I mean," She says, turning to me in front of her door.

"Yeah, they're something alright," I answer, smiling. My hand trailing up her arm all the way to her cheek, looking at the goosebumps I leave in their trail.

"I should go in, Maggie's probably waiting for me," She says, though her lips meet mine.

"Yeah, you probably should." She doesn't.

"I really do have to go now," She insists, and it's the dark sky that convinces me she's right, but that doesn't mean I want to leave the haven of her warm, soft lips.

"Goodbye." She looks up at me with her brilliant blue eyes.

"Bye, I'll cya soon?" I ask tentatively, my gaze dancing across her beauteous figure.

"Definitely." She nods and opens the door, heading inside with swaying hips while I start the cold journey back to my house.


	15. The Dingo

The soft and worn patchwork quilt, one of three which mom had spent a week straight making, brushing against my arms, and the warm sunlight shining on my eyes are the first things I feel as my eyes flutter open. My legs are heavy as I trudge to the kitchen, stumbling to the fridge and watching as the last drops of milk plop into the bowl of Wheaties I'd poured. My eyes scan the hastily scribbled note on the counter.

Pony,

Dar and I are both heading in to work early

We'll be back before 4

-SODA

The nearly illegible scrawl is instantly recognizable as Soda's, a stark contrast to the usual carefully drawn out penmanship Darry has always been complimented on which usually make up the notes left for me. I can hardly keep my eyes open as I hear the familiar thump thump thump of someone lumping themselves up the front steps that usually accompanies mornings at my house.

"Don't slam the door," I yell out.

Slam

I don't even know why I try, I think, taking another spoonful of increasingly soggy Wheaties to my lips.

I look up to see who came over this morning and am greeted with the sight of Two-bit, though I could've guessed that from the tremorous nature of his heavy footfalls against the creaky wooden steps.

"Howdy, horse-man, are you ready for the best day of your life?" Two asks with far too much enthusiasm for 9 am on a weekend.

"What on earth makes you think that this'll be the best day of my life, I've had some pretty good days." Finishing off my bowl and taking it to the sink I wonder what makes him think this seemingly arbitrary Saturday will be any different than last Saturday, or the Saturday before that, or the one before that.

"Because, amigo, today it's just you an' me," He smiles, showing off his freshly chipped tooth, something he undoubtedly obtained when he made a few too many jokes about someone at Buck's last night.

"Just you?" I ask, wandering over to the couch and searching through channels to find something not entirely boring.

"Just me." He confirms, protesting when I skip past Mickey and onto some new show, Star Trek, I think it's called.

"Where is everyone?" I wonder aloud, not exactly needing an answer but getting one anyway.

"Well Dal got hauled in again on, uh, Wednesday, I think, and you already know better than I do where Soda an' Dar are, I haven't been able to track down Johnny yet, and Steve's off tryin' to distract Evie." His response is offhanded as he becomes increasingly engrossed in the show.

"Distracting her from what?" I ask offhandedly, attention more so on the

"Haven't you heard? 'Bout her parents…" He trails off, taking his eyes off the laser shoot off happening on the TV.

"What about her parents?" I question, my mind going in a million different directions thinking about what disaster could be tearing yet another family from the east side of town.

"Her old man got caught cheatin', I think he even got the gal pregnant, but I dunno for sure, and I ain't 'bout to go askin' her if her new stepmom is pregnant." He gets up to go get a beer from his stash in the fridge, the stash that we have to hide every time the state comes for a visit.

"Stepmom?" I call to him, his head stuck in the fridge, the screams and commands coming from the TV now the last thing I notice.

"Oh yeah, you've met her mom before right?" He asks, a loud plomp filling the room as he thumps onto the couch, beer in hand.

"Once, yeah." Not the nicest woman, but she wasn't particularly mean, though that could've been because she was in front of police officers and countless other people as she had to tear a crying Evie away from Steve as the fuzz pushed him into their car.

"Well, she ain't one to stick around if she ain't the number one priority, so when she found another gal in her bed, she left a note, skipped town, and only came back to get a suitcase and sign the divorce papers." He takes another sip of his beer, scratching his head and going back to his show.

It never fails to astound me, the casual nature which we've adopted to talk about parents cheating and leaving without so much as a goodbye. We use the same tone for a mom skipping town as we do sitting around gabbing about some movie we saw, and not even a good movie that you're excited to talk about or see again, it's more like a mediocre one that you're warning a buddy to not take his girl to.

"-kid? Hello? Earth to Pony-" Two-bit waves his hand in front of my face, breaking my reverie, something he's been having to do quite often as of late.

"What." I swat his hand away, picking up his empty beer and taking it to the trash, knowing full well that if I don't, no one will, and if it doesn't get cleaned up Darry will throw a fit later.

"How 'bout we go downtown, hunt some action." An arched eyebrow dancing above mischief filled eyes as he grabs my jacket from the hook by the door and tugs me out and down the front steps and out to cruise the strip.

When we get to the strip, despite the fact that it's only noon the street is full of people, some rushing from place to place and some simply taking in the town, sitting outside shops or chatting on the sidewalk. It doesn't take long for us to spot a familiar face in the crowd.

"Hey, Johnny." I wave from across the bustling street, walking along the crosswalk in front of me until we're all on the same side of the road.

"Hey man, what's up?" He replies, now not having to compete with roaring engines and clamoring crowds.

"Nothin', just tryin' to avoid death by boredom," I deadpan, ignoring the shout of protest from Two-bit.

"How can you be bored when I'm around?" He asks, though his attention is more so on the, as he would call it, 'stacked' blonde and brunette walking past us, skirts blowing in the wind. I ignore him.

"Oh, well Steve invited me to go out with him an' Evie later 'cause she's bein' forced to take her new stepsister out to show her the town an' all that," He says, grinning widely, or at least what would be considered a wide grin by his standards, "You should come along, I wouldn't wanna be all alone with this kid all night."

"You won't be alone, Steve an' Evie'll be there," I protest, knowing full well that Steve will only complain that I'm being a tagalong.

"Aw, c'mon man, we both know that when they go out there ain't much talkin' that goes on." He shoots me a knowing look, desperate to not spend the night next to a necking couple all night with a kid he doesn't know.

"I dunno, Steve probably don't want me there," I say, warily, not wanting to spend an evening getting called a tagalong.

"It'll be fine, she's closer to your age than mine, an' you know how I am with strangers… and girls… but that ain't the point, you should come, man." He says, eyes pleading and hopeful as he looks to me to save him from an awkward night.

"Fine, when?"

-and just like that at 7 that night minutes before Steve is supposed to pick up Johnny and me from my place I pick up the phone and dial a number that I've dialed more times than I can count over the past few months.

I hope it's Maria who picks up, I think, not that I don't like talking to Mrs. Wilson, I just don't have time to listen to another story about how expensive milk is these days- my thoughts are interrupted by the sudden stop of the ringing.

"Hi," I say lamely.

C'mon Pony, she probably doesn't even know it's you, I berate myself, I seem to be doing a lot more of that now that Maria is here…

"Hey." I hear Maria's voice through the receiver, and though it's scratchy through the phone the sound of her voice still makes my head go light and takes a weight off my shoulders. "What's going on?"

"Uh, goin' out with some friends tonight, what about you?"

"Oh, nothing, just sitting in my room… alone…" She says and I can hear the smirk on her face.

"Alone? What about Mrs. Wilson?" I ask, wondering how her usually overprotective and strict aunt finally thought it was ok to leave her home alone.

"Gone off to hang out with an old friend who came to town, I was supposed to be studying with my tutor today but she had to cancel, so now I'm just sitting here...all alone," she murmurs, her tantalizing tone strikingly uncharacteristic of her normally demure, fairly pious self. Not quite sure how to respond to her sudden beguiling I resign to say something a little less provocative.

"Well that sucks... have you thought about readin' a new book?" I suggest, thinking it must just be that she's bored, maybe I could suggest something to do-

"Uh, yeah, I was actually just about to do that, I'll, uh, talk to you later?" I start to ask why she suddenly wanted to go when she cut me off- "Bye."

-And just like that, I'm met with the dial tone. I hang up the receiver, put on my jacket, and join Johnny outside to wait for Steve. We don't have to wait for long, soon enough our heads are turning to the familiar roar of the engine Steve spent months collecting parts for and assembling at every spare moment.

Honk. HONK. HOOOOOOOOOONNNKKKKKKKKK-

"We're coming!" I shout over the scream of the horn that Steve thought was absolutely necessary to use to alert us of his presence, despite us being not even 10 feet from and in full view of the car.

I slide in after Johnny, mutter a quick 'hey' to Evie and don't even get to fully sit down before Steve starts berating me.

"I'm going to warn ya now so I don't have to pound your face later. Keep her busy and if you can't you are under no circumstances goin' to talk about her parents." Steve greets and threatens all in one breath, barely turning from the wheel but still glaring at me via the rearview mirror.

"O..k?" I'm not quite sure how to reply.

When did I get charged with keeping her step-sister busy, I think to myself, I don't wanna spend my Saturday night babysitting some bratty kid.

"Hi Johnny, hey Pony," Evie says over her shoulder, keeping her eyes trained hungrily on Steve. Trailing her hand up and down his arm which is placed firmly on her leg, though due to the seat I can't see just how high his hand is, though I'm very sure that I don't want to know.

The rest of the trip is filled with Johnny and I chatting quietly in the back seat. Our eyes fixed firmly on either each other or the windows to avoid catching glimpses of wandering hands. The Dingo is packed, we can hardly find a parking spot in between the mulling crowds. When we finally do find a space Evie disappears into the hoard to 'go find the little brat'. Steve, Johnny and I find a table, Steve reserves one bench for Evie and him, relegating Johnny and me to the other side with Evie's sister.

We didn't have much time to actually talk because before long Evie comes back, a small figure trailing behind her. I can't say I've ever seen Evie looking so irritated. Truly, she looks like this girl's only purpose in life was to be a permanent pain in Evie's side and if it was, she'd be doing a marvelous job. It doesn't take long before Evie is situated beside Steve and they're fully invested in their conversation.

The girl stands awkwardly at the end of the table, eyes flicking to and fro, obviously at a loss as to where she should go. After a few moments, I take pity on her and scoot closer to Johnny creating a new seat it the booth. She looks at me, wide-eyed and quietly slides in next to me.

"Hi," She squeaks, a small wave directed at both me and Johnny is lost upon him as Steve asks him a question but I smile back slightly and that seems to satisfy her.

I'm not quite sure what I was expecting, maybe a snotty, bratty 10 year old who wouldn't shut up and would be a pain in my ass all night. Whatever, or whoever, I thought I was going to be spending my night with before certainly wasn't who's sitting next to me in the booth. She's quiet, only uttering one word so far, which crosses off her being someone who won't shut up. She most definitely isn't 10, she looks my age, maybe a little older. She also isn't a pain in my ass, at least not yet, although, so far, she hasn't really been much of anything.

I look over at her but she doesn't seem to notice me, she doesn't seem to notice anything. Her head is down as she stares at her thumbs twirling her sweater between them. I don't get a good look at her face but from what I can see she looks as though she wants to be anywhere in the world but here. I guess I was staring because she looks up and meets my eyes, I was right about her looking as though she's stuck in her own personal hell but the ensuing eye contact has got to be one of the most painfully awkward moments of my entire life.

"Hi, uh so, what's your name?" I ask, desperately trying to escape the silence that had settled over us the moment she sat down.

"Elaine." I barely hear her over the laughter of the other patrons, both from our booth and all over the diner.

"My name is Ponyboy," I say, ready and waiting for the confused denial my name normally gets me, usually accompanied by the accusation that I'm pulling their leg and a 'no I mean your real name'. When that happens I swear my eyes may just roll right out of my head.

"Really?" She asks, the strange look she shoots my way is more than expected and I'm able to keep my eyes in check and resist the urge to roll them.

"Yeah, my dad was real original," I explain, using the same response both Soda and me have been using for years whenever our names have been questioned. "It's even on my birth certificate."

"Oh, cool." She replies, chewing her lip in what seems to be, at least from an outsider's perspective, a nervous tick. Another heavy silence settles between us.

"So, uh, when did you move here?" I ask, the awkward silence between speaking grating on my nerves in a way silence never usually does.

"Last week, technically, we only moved to our house two days ago." Her responses are concise, succinct, she never talks for longer than she has to, a stark difference from my extremely talkative friends who take any chance they can to regale me with their tales of bravery(ie stupidity) and whom could spend hours gabbing about the most insignificant of topics if given the chance.

"That's tuff enough." She doesn't respond.

"So, uh, how old are ya?" I try again, growing tired of picking at the gray peeling plastic table top.

"15." The edges of her sleeves are stretched and torn from where she's obviously been picking at loose threads and wrapping and unwrapping them from around her hands. I wonder how much she does that. Wrap. Unwrap. Wrap. Unwrap. Wrap. Unwrap. Wrap. Unwrap. Until her sleeves are bigger than even the biggest wrists and there are loose threads hanging off the hems.

"When did you turn 15?" I ask, curious as to just how much older than me she is.

"Last week," she states, picking at yet another thread. That poor sweater, does she do that to all of them?

"Well then, happy belated birthday" And the small smile I earn is worth the awkward spaces, it's hardly noticeable, but I can tell it's real and the smile I send back is involuntary but well received.

"Thanks," She answers so quietly I almost don't hear her.

"-So how can I help y'all?" The waitress asks.

I'm sure I seem very excited about my Pepsi as I order, and though I'm always happy about getting a Pepsi, the buoyant tone of my voice isn't due to the Dingo's drink options but rather a small, toothless smile that may seem insignificant to someone just walking in but filled my heart with pride knowing just how long it had taken me to achieve.

"So you're a freshman?" I ask, trying my luck to maybe get another smile like the one before.

"Uh, yeah, I start next week." At least it's more than three words. It's not the smile I was aiming for but at least she's talking.

"That's tuff. I'm a freshman, too. Though I wasn't supposed to, I was supposed to be in 8th but I was smart enough that they moved me up a grade." I say, barely noticing the drink placed in front of me.

"That's nice," she replies, back to her minimalistic answers.

"Uh, so how're ya liking it here so far?" I try, her reply is far too quiet for me to hear.

I try again and again but she keeps her responses barely audible in the raucous laughter and loud conversations of the surrounding patrons. Eventually, I resign to the uncomfortable silence that hangs in the air between us, though I must admit it's far more comfortable than the heavy hush we'd been sitting in. As we've been talking though she's becoming less and less reticent and I'm enjoying my time more and more.

I hadn't gotten to speak to Johnny much, both of us being occupied with other conversations, though I know for a fact that Johnny hasn't been the one doing the talking. That's part of what's amazing about Johnny, he can sit there for hours listening to stories or rants. He'll sit there and let people drone on and on about things like cars which he has admitted to me he doesn't really like or care about that much, but he listens anyway.

"She hates me." She says, nodding to Evie and Steve, now on the dance floor, after a few minutes of her silent sipping.

"What?" I ask, wondering what had prompted such a statement and what she meant by it.

What? I mean yeah she seemed annoyed but she must not hate her, I think, taking a long sip of my almost empty Pepsi

"Evie. She hates me," she repeats, pushing the ice around her cup with her straw, "She only took me because her dad threatened to not let her see Steve for a week if she didn't include me."

"I'm sure she doesn't hate you," I try and reason, "She's just upset right now because of everything that happened with your parents."

"She's barely said two sentences to me, one of which was: get in or I'm leaving you with your whore mother." The hurt is evident on her face, she doesn't seem to be bothering to hide it, and if she is, well I hope she doesn't try out for the play.

"Oh." I don't have much to say to that, I opt for staring into the sea of dancing couples, most of which are just blurs of colors moving along to the fast-paced song playing.

"Yeah…" Another heavy silence and as I look over to Johnny I can sense his discomfort in the way he picks at his nails and hangs his head slightly lower than normal. The bright red seat is covered by the

"So, uh," I smile encouragingly at her, "what do people like to do around here?" She finally stammers out.

"Well there's lots to do and everyone likes something different, but my crowd usually does stuff like this, cruisin' the strip and hangin' out, sometimes there's drag races or rumbles." I try, hoping this branch of conversation won't end in an abrupt silence as all the others have so far. Is it too much to ask for one continuous conversation that flows naturally from topic to topic rather than the discontinuous chatter we've had?

As I wait for her to hopefully respond I finally get a chance to take a good look at her. The bright lights of the Dingo shine in her green eyes. Normally I don't like green eyes but against her black hair and some of the palest skin I've ever seen I think that I don't mind them. Her hair is shoulder length and straight but she uses it to cover part of her face, distracting from, but not completely covering her large eyes and thick black lashes. She slouches her back and that in combination with her oversized sweater she has a bit of a frumpy look going on. Despite the bulky and dowdy sweater, there's still an outline of a full bust hidden beneath the layers of cotton and wool.

"That's cool, I guess." She replies after a moment, a quizzical look in her eye, seeming not quite satisfied with my answer.

"Were you expectin' something different?" I ask, curious as to what else a person could possibly do on a Saturday night.

"I dunno, it's just different, everything here is so different. The town, the people, hell, even my own family." She lets out a small laugh that is anything but joyous as she picks at her nail beds, pulling at hangnails and peeling back thin layers of skin around her thumb.

"Oh, uh, yeah that must be… tough." You are under no circumstances goin' to talk about her parents - Steve's warning echos in my head, I wonder if that applied to Elaine too.

"You can talk about it, I don't care, just because you don't specifically say it doesn't mean my mom wasn't part of an affair that tore up someone else's family, and just because we don't mention it doesn't mean I'm not living with a new step-dad I never asked for and a step-sister who hates me and everything I stand for. So go ahead and talk about it, because it's the reality no matter what and dancing around the topic won't transport me back home to my friends and house and goddammit ." She slides out of the booth abruptly, her jerky movements almost forcing one of the tears forming in her eyes to go dripping down her cheeks. "I have to go."

"Wait." I get up too. Sliding between dancing couples and chatting friends as a race after Elaine's quickly disappearing figure as she maneuvers through the crowd to the door. I can hardly hear the bell ring above the door as she opens it and slips into the frost night air. I take one last look at Johnny sitting alone at the table, then again at Elaine's shrinking form and head out into the cold street.

It takes me a moment to catch up to her, I have to start running to reach her as she hurries down the busy street. The bright lights of shops and street lamps lighting up her face and making the tears built up in her eyes painfully obvious. We walk in step, though she tries to speed up and get rid of me so she can cry in peace as she walks home, though I'm not even sure she knows the way home. I'm persistent, however, and lengthen my stride to keep in time with her hurried steps as the citizens of Tulsa bustle in the dark night around us.

"What do you want?" Her scornful eyes glimmering with tears she's yet to allow to fall. Her voice shakes as she pours, what I assume to be, every ounce of hatred for her world over the past few months into her words, trying to scathe me with her tone.

"Whoa, I just wanted to make sure you were alright," I say, rubbing my hands together as the cold bites at my fingers.

"Well I'm fine so you can go back to your friends now." She speeds up, almost running now as she turns onto a side road from the Strip.

"Are you sure about that, cause you look like you're about to cry." I pry, even though I'm pretty sure she'll snap at me again.

Does she even know where she's going? I wonder as she continues down yet another side road.

"Why wouldn't I be." She wipes her eyes even though the cold wind already dried any stray tears long ago. Her eyes are set confidently in front of her as she pushes ahead against the stinging wind and makes another turn.

"Maybe because all that stuff you said earlier, about your family and moving and stuff, maybe you need to talk about that," I suggest, looking around for street signs to get a sense of where she may be taking us if she even knows that herself.

"With who? Evie hates me, every time I bring it up with my dad he just says its a 'fresh start', I'm not about to talk to Larry about it, and I can't exactly hop on over to my friend's house to have a quick chat." A fresh set of tears start forming in her eyes and she finally has to slow down to calm herself.

"Me," I say, smiling at her, silently glad to have a break from the near running pace we'd set before, I'm not exactly wearing running shoes and my feet are feeling the effects, "look, it's getting late and you don't wanna be wandering the streets in this town after dark all on your lonesome so how about you tell me your address, I'll help you find your way home and on the way you can spill your guts about your family."

I take her demure and grateful smile as a yes and after she tells me her address I start walking us in the direction of her house.

She talks and talks and talks, her voice is sweet despite the doleful expression she wears and the disconcerting topic. She talks about her disappointment, anger, frustration, fear, everything. The walk was long as she had taken us in the complete opposite direction from where we needed to be, and the night was cold, her shivering form not hidden by the thick sweater she wears.

Finally, after far too many minutes of watching her rub her arms to try to keep the increasingly cold bite of the Tulsa night at bay, I slide off my jacket and drape it onto her shoulders. Her eyes snap to mine and she tries to take it off and give it back.

"It's freezing out, I'm wearing a sweater, I'll be fine," She protests through chattering teeth.

"It's fine, we're almost there, you can give it back to me when we get there and I'll be nice and toasty on the walk home." I smile, pulling the jacket closed on her, speeding up because it really is cold out and at this point, I just want to get into my warm bed.

When we finally do reach her house it's been completely dark out for some time and the bright porch light is a welcome break from the dark walk.

"So, uh, thanks, for listening… and for not letting me run off." Her voice is shaky, arms crossed as she turns her back on the white door, paint chipping around the hinges.

"It's no big deal, I wasn't about to let someone who don't even know the town wander off in the dark," I say, "could I, uh, have my jacket back."

"Oh, yeah, here, thanks for letting me borrow it." She smiles as she pulls it from her shoulders and presses the jacket into my hand.

"I'll see you around." I wave as I lope down the steps, broken street lights sporadically lighting my walk home.


End file.
